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  • Lorraine Johnson

[62] The One That Lasts

To catch identity—

and frame it on a wall,

then move through time

listening closely for new calls.

To wander forward—

with different body, and wiser mind,

creating yet another path to wind—

of twists and bends and straight lines.

Is it just evolution? or a revelation drawn?

or rather just another one of you, anew?

As the you of who you think you are

reveals itself in looking back,

and in soul must ask, did I do that?

Was that me walking those many tracks?

So more than one, we can drum.

It's imagination that leads us—

to each and every one.

With past once felt, and the future a dream

leaves us the present with thoughts in full stream—

to create a new story that we hope is vast,

with sounds of new wonder not far from its path,

as we lean in and embrace, for as long as it lasts.

And so reimagining now must be—

the only way to create a redrawn me.

For what is gone—in all its awe—must now give way,

so we can form new yesterdays.


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