Past Poem by John Prophet

It vaporizes.
The past
just fades.
Fades
away, like
water when
a wave passes.
It's remembered
or so
thought.
Memories
hold,
reinforce.
Yet, the
past
no longer
exists.
No longer
tangible.
It's gone.
Like a wave,
once past
blends back.
What's to
come,
wells up.
Welling up
from the
ether.
Energy creates
then fades,
reabsorbed.
Reabsorbed
back to
the ether,
as a wave
to water.
Back to
probability.
Back to
a different
place.
A place not
understood.
Back to the
origin of
things to
be recycled.
Recycled
either here
or there.
Reused by
creation.