the Past is Me

In the sands of time,
Blur of the wind,
Nothing stands still,
or remains well.
When the past comes strong
to claim you as his,
"You are mine, I've moulded you,
For what you, in today, stand
You are mine
and I am yours".
No matter how fast
we run,or where we go,
what path we take, or who we meet,
The past claims parts of us
which remains ever so faithful
unchanged.
Slowly you grow,
painful experiences
joyful moments.
Yet your core,
the making of your past,
always the same,
purer than gold,
it withstands the pressure of time.
One day, soon or late,
One day, we always go back
to where yesterday we stood.
To the days which made us
who we, today, are.
To the days we call: the past
Wind blows,sun shines,
Sea cries and night howls.
The dust of time
clings to me,
the past intricatley woven into my being,
realization sets deeply into my soul.