Here
I walk
In the path
Of those in my
Past, dusty boots kick
Up memories, the miles
Move on, the wind whispering
What if, the ascension of life,
Marking time only to be
Lost in the swirling mist
Of yesterday,
I still see
Promise,
Hope
Will my eyes see through
The clouds ai night, foggy haze
Marking time, blinded?
Chasing a dream,
Her hands on the reins,
Melting pink melancholy the backdrop to hope,
Liquid yellow and orange sunshine warm the heart,
Seeking the truth, the answer, to love, lost and imagined
The dream, and love, both out of reach as fog clouds each
Piece of the past, the puzzle incomplete, broken,
Wishing it was easy, forever lending herself to time.
Lazy Day
Snow is falling
White flakes accumulate
Like quiet memories lost in
A sugar coated fantasy
Waiting for warmth and time
To erase them
Lazy day
The sands of time move
Quickly through the hour glass
Of a forgotten
Era, granules slipping,
Falling, asking for nothing
Forever we walk
Each step a moment in time
Each step a tale told
Each step breaks new earth
Uncovering hidden tears
Each step a critique
Tears slide down the contours of her face,
Each one filled with reminders of the past.
When hearts beat as one and love was new,
But time is cruel and the story told as souls age and drift apart,
Is a forgotten one.
Time slowly descends on what once was, asking for nothing and promising
everything.
Attempting to fill a void…
Cessation of time
Marching forward through burning
Embers of a soul
Unleashed in its madness
To see the truth of what if…
Each day has to end
Time is a friend to no one
Creeping, crawling on
Never forgiving, takes all
The infinite abyss waits
We travel through life hoping that time won’t move.
Always hoping that it will stand still with the steely determination of a Marine standing guard.
But it doesn’t.
Days, months and years spent living, mystifyingly chained to the fixtures of life itself, not paying attention to the ticking clock.
Yet time marches on.
Family and friends pass, reunited with the earth, silenced by time, remembered briefly and then forgotten like the sting of a bee soothed by cold cubed ice.
We move on, masking our sadness with memories, perceived and real, that are tattooed in our minds.
Time begins to take over, the memories that once held us up now falter and fade, our own timeless progression now becomes the enemy.
We then pass and that memory will hold another up until time catches up with them.
The Zen Hiker 