On an early evening walk,
The sun still pretty high.
On a day I was destroyed by shock and fear and lies.
I managed to stand up and walk the narrow road that brought me to a bridge rusted small and old.
Beneath the path that crossed it was a rather tiny creek.
Not sure how it flowed,
So thin and slow and weak.
Never do I meet a soul upon this road,
But tonight I saw two standing,
One young,
One ancient and old.
Both did greet me warmly and asked about my state.
The young had emerald eyes,
The old had milky slate.
Before I could explain,
The young began to say,
My name is tomorrow,
He is yesterday.
I'm trying,
I said,
To live in the now,
To live this moment fully,
Although I'm not sure quite how.
It's all in how you say it,
Yesterday replied.
You have to do it as a verb or as a noun you'll die.
Tomorrow quietly rolled her eyes,
Said,
Let me simplify.
To live means to keep going.
It's not a noun that never tries.
Yesterday then grabbed my arm and said,
Some years ago,
What tortures you today,
You didn't even know.
It's all about perspective,
Tomorrow gave a wink.
I guarantee away from now,
Very differently you'll think.
Yesterday said to tomorrow,
You've put the sun away,
We'll have to walk in darkness now,
You do this every day.
The sun will come out,
Tomorrow said.
It always finds a way.
