Maybe Its Because... Poem by James Tipp

Maybe its because...

Memories are the bedrock of who we are how we have become,
They inform our present, by engaging with our past, giving insight.
The places, events, captured and stored to be accessed on demand.
But the reality changes memories are confused with the passage of time,
The places of childhood growing are now transformed with little remaining.
The London of my youth is no more, Cinderella in the ashes, now a Princess.
Yet the scars remain, physical and mental, they are writ large upon you.
The hand with its central scar, the bombed ruin, the glass that caused the pain,
The indented shin, another scar, from a ruined London Wall that is no more.
So we travelled the river in the dark, Greenwich to Westminster, amazed.
The old are still within view, the Tower with its builder Gundulph, set in the past
Tower bridge is passed and the sight from beneath is still breath taking,
Captain Kidd's pub looms out of the dark a reminder of yesterdays terrorists
The sights and sounds are both past and present, a magical moment in time.
The city is astounding in the darkness, lit up like a beacon of modernity.
Alongside the ancient and historic, lies the new, exciting monuments
Testimony to our times, the Shard magnificent towering grandeur, excites.
The Eye with its slow ponderous circling, red in the night sky, invites inspection
So new memories are overlaid with the old whose sights and sounds have gone.
I look with pride upon this my city, enjoy this Princess risen from the ashes
We have made this ours, as we stand arm in arm, full of wonder, togther.