“What an abyss of uncertainty whenever the mind feels that some part of it has strayed beyond its own borders; when it, the seeker, is at once the dark region through which it must go seeking, where all its equipment will avail it nothing.  Seek?  More than that:  create.  It is face to face with something which does not so far exist, to which it alone can give reality and substance, which it alone can bring into the light of day.”

Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust

We will all be a memory, everyone who is here
the past, the present, both coming together
long after we all disappear

So we cobble together whatever memories we can make,
with the ones we dearly love, even with the ones
whom we hate

And when the time passes us by, we are desperate to cling
to visions, feelings, and whatever else
that life can bring

remembering the ones who left us so long ago,
seeing them in our minds, filling our hearts
with the memories that we know,

remembrances of the past, even those unwritten
we shall be but memories tomorrow
to anyone who will listen.

Daily Prompt