Something in the eyes of an old friend once turncoat
On the road to forgiven,
Makes my memory twitch as it traces the lines of the past,
Padding over patterned pathways of pain,
To end up in the now.

If this moment is the only one we have,
What purpose does our memory serve?

If love is forgiveness,
If we are love,
Better settle into the security of this moment
And abandon times gone by-

Instant is the only now we can really know.