Good Memories Of What Was

The memories are all we have left of the past
And the clock on our lives does keep ticking on fast
The now is all that matters as some like to say
Though some i am one who does not see it that way
Often in my flights of fancy i hear the lark sing
Above the brown bog in the prime of the Spring
And the chaffinch who once was familiar to me
In the quiet of the evening sings on a birch tree
Where i had my first lessons in Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
For as long as the breath of life in our lungs stay
From Nature we learn something new every day
We must live in the now for the past it has gone
But good memories of what was in us linger on.