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The past, it never happens

The mind fires empty cannons

Shuddering the song of peace

There’s a story behind each crease

Now to the past, there’s no thread

Time laughs, at a worrying head

A moment of deep inner quiet

Will quell the mind’s incessant riot

The past, a stale and heavy blanket

The mind uses it as its magnet

We cling, knowing no other

A lifeline, in the mind’s clutter

When we tire of the past

A delicious future’s broadcast

The mind is fully at peace

When we renew, each day, its lease

Physician I Poet I Transformational Philosophy - Free awareness and its power to transform. www.intoawareness.org. Learn more- amazon.com/author/seshadri

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