Oh the Past

"The stars were icicles of mockery." - From Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac.

The deadened night reached back into yesterday
There by the gleaming moon was all that I
had ever been
And wanted to be
The silent noise and the roaring quiet dissipated
But
I could still see the younger me full of hope
But
Without a plan or a goal or a vision
Dark clouds and a soft wind and a chill
all at two am
Made for a wistful sense that
there was little that could be done
The present was on going and the future a dream
the past though
Oh the past
Here was where I happily dwelled
Rectifying past mistakes
Righting wrongs I had done and that were done to me
Making me live anew
Editing and revising and fixing and correcting
As if what had transpired were written and not lived
I reached back into long past decades with an eraser
and a pen
And there made perfection where crystalline mistakes of
obvious blunder had once existed
This was my night of heroics
Wrongs righted enemies slighted dissipation blighted
I would go on now
Knowing that I had dwelled again
in years of ago
Oh the past my fickle friend
Not my memory but who I am
You I see as clouds against the stars edge into
the night sky
Don't hide from me
What is past is
Is
Always and forever
And I will re-write you yet
On cold dark nights of starry dreams