Psalm 139:16 

16 Your eyes saw me when I was inside the womb.
All the days ordained for me were recorded in your scroll
before one of them came into existence.

 

Memories invade the privacy of my thoughts

Always the question remains “in what point of view”

It has so much to do with my state of heart

Positive or negative to name just a few

 

What triggers the foundation to show life’s perspective?

Who lays bare some fractures of a “full-lived” past?

Here and there a sliver escaping from memory

to flare up on a screen of thought that seldom does last

 

Are experiences in life stored in caves of remembrance?

Are they kept in silence in your history’s library?

Like books on shelves or magazines never cataloged

that you run in by accident when life seems contrary?

 

A package stored in a head covered with some hair

that many try to mail to whoever need impressing

Wrapped in sheets of pride or a cord called despair

to be mailed to anyone who lives on second guessing

 

One can’t see when it’s gone for it leaves only emptiness

All sense of direction is now in someone else’s head

How will one fill the void in self chosen only-ness

if all your faculties now rest in the memories you have?

 

It seems a life cycle ... pre-molded in a circle

All life seems on the outside moving at full speed

On the inside just a state of solemn existence

that can’t fill any hunger or fulfill your needs

 

Jan Wienen