Shred of time

I turned and saw a shred of time,
still chasing after me,
as if the memory had wings
and spoke eternally.
It was within the instant held,
those images long gone,
of joy and sorrow hand in hand;
of all that I had known.
In lingered, longing looking back
I saw the trace of life,
still weaving through the map of mind;
still birthing Soul and Self.