My poem about the past



The past, you see, it isn't gone,
it's just a bit more distant now.
And if the past was really gone
the now was also never there.
For what we think to be the now
has no duration – none at all.
Because it starts to be the past
as soon as it becomes the now. 


So everything that ever was 
is as it has ever been.
And if there ever was a now
it was the border of the past,
a border that just ceased to be,
which just became and never was.
The past, you see, it isn't gone.
It’s just a bit more distant now.


Leksand, September 20, 2010.
Photo shows Asarum's vicarage, Lydia's home as a child.



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