ESSENCE OF TRACES

ESSENCE OF TRACES
There is no beginning;
There is no end;
Only the essence of traces.
Each day is a page;
By night that will fall;
From the very beginning;
To the end for us all.
From out of the darkness;
And into the light;
Colors and odors and sounds what a fright.
Dreams turn to memories with time they emerge.
Ever changing stories begin to surge.
We then try to determine;                                                 What was real, what was not.
The truth is evasive, illusive, like fog.
Alone at the end;
The mystery unsolved;
Our bodies then leave us;
And the infinite returns.