Shape Shifters

How the mind molds memories into what it wants them to be.

Moulder Into Dust`

Life is made from memories

One tiny memory at a time

Scattered about like fallen leaves

In the woodlands of one’s mind

Tho’ gathered up and stored away

Put in all their proper places

Some become a bit worn and frayed

Like well used antique laces

The beauty of a leaf was ne’er meant to last

But to moulder into dust

Time’s a thief who preys ‘pon the past

Whose virtues lack that of trust

We make of memories what we desire

We shape them to our pleasure

We bank or feed our memorie’s fire

Then enjoy them at our leisure

And after time...stored in our mind

like leaves ‘neath the snow

memories age like fine red wine

Take root anew...And slowly start to grow

Our memories tend to twist and bend

like leaves upon the tree

Shape shifters at the very end

...Into what we wish them to be...