‘Let go of the past’ has always sounded easy to say
By colder people just wanting us facing forwards
Impatient and inconvenienced by the daemons that haunt us
Their selfishness bothered by the things in their way
But I’ve finally realised there might a deeper wisdom :
Perhaps there’s a metaphor about the river of time
And we cling dearly to our loved ones deep in the flow
We are scared because we desperately don’t want to let go
To see them quickly fade as the river winds
Am I just fighting the reality that we all have to go?
And am I aghast that I might forget to remember
The date, the time, of their death in November?
That one day no one will care, because no one will know
Should we ‘let go’ simply because of this deep truth about life itself?