This Brief Snippet

Mountains of meaningless malarky
meander through my mind
as I sail the sea
of my imagined identity.

“I am none of this!”, I say,
as I drift past each scene of my history,
and yet, each picture has its poignant pull,
its sense of “This is me!”

These are powerful dreams,
the memories that define me,
when I am asleep
and in their grip.

In my waking moments,
they grow cloudy,
evanescent,
yet still redolent with meaning.

They are the tapestry
that this story of “me”
is woven from,
the fabric of my life,
the movie I watch
for as long as I am here.

I am not the story,
not the movie,
but I am the grateful viewer
of all of this
as it plays out,
in this brief snippet of eternity,
before my wondering eyes.