My mirrored reflection begins the story,
that hearkens back to ancient glory;
In the ageless wonder of fantasy,
my face seems smooth with smiles carefree.

If under the sun I call my name,
the wisps of clouds fly away in shame;
Forever the brightest star I'll be,
like the leaf of an autumnal tree.

Slipping back to current reality,
my rugged skin seems foreign to me;
I never thought of growing older,
I only believed in becoming bolder.

So where in the world did my life go ?
is it hiding under the hills of snow ?
Or perhaps a vibrant dance to the sea,
where everything seems wild and free ?

I guess it's such as others proclaim,
the solitary voice which speaks our name;
Is the one which only the Lord God knows,
in a gift of love from so long ago.

There's another time before this time,
frequently lost in space;
A kaleidoscope of fears and doubts,
desperately longing to escape.

But in that world of inexplicable time,
worry dominates thought;
The needless, mindless misery,
from a heart that can't be bought.

Wherein lies the answer still,
for moments tossed aside ?
As torment and grief curve into waves,
roaming aimlessly through the tides.

We may never know from where it comes,
the substantive relief;
But perhaps one day the ebb and flow,
will rescue our beliefs !

Nearer to the wall I carry this torch of fire,
from beastly growths of toppled weeds to open meadows;
Its flame creates a lightning rod of strength,
and from the earth time rages onward as it glows.

When will we discover the sweet seasons overhead ?
the message speaks more of ferocity than sorrow;
As walls close in and try to crush the ancient flow,
our fleeting thoughts will encounter new tomorrows.

With profound faith and mercy heaven sends,
a prophet with another torch to lead;
And somehow in the darkness I relent,
to wander off and find the open sea.

While beckoning the rivers to follow me,
wraith-like figures float among the willing winds;
How solemn are the starless nights ahead,
filling clouds with sights and sounds of angels' wings.

When problems surface with complexity,
we often question our humanity;
As challenges to right the wrongs,
can sweep us into angry throngs.

While silence speaks in many words,
in ownership of thoughts unheard;
These fleeting moments are erased,
'till we can build a proper case.

Imagine an outcome that professes,
to sail beyond tragedy's confessions;
Relating each horror put in place,
then judging what we can't embrace.

Yet while the road is ending here,
our hearts decry the wasted fears;
And in the darkness of the night,
true justice follows with its might.

The painful circulation of deadly schemes,
its catapulting crime that denies dreams;
Lost from view when vaporized and shattered,
leaving merely shards of seashells scattered.

Left alone to contemplate the surging tides,
while the sea envelops mindfulness of pride;
Studying each mood that swings in random,
awakening as the beach's fearsome phantom.

In vacant eyes' disquieting adventures,
caressing lengths of dusky evening's pleasures;
The circle bound to saintly words discovers,
a swirling of the ocean's waves recovered.

Alas, no hope to gather heaven's grace,
to set upon this hapless time and place;
Futility embarks with countless measures,
as crazed and cowered spirits cast off treasures.

Then basking in the light of all that's chosen,
the movement of the waters tightly frozen;
Roundabout on high the gulls proclaim,
that life begins and ends without disdain.

The clouds seem woolly amid the sky,
while curiously floating past our eyes;
The rumbling thunder rolls on by,
which sets the scene for clouds to cry.

In emerald tears the waters gush,
while folks take off among the rush;
Of shaking trees and slippery streets,
with raindrops falling down their cheeks.

And when the lightning dances about,
the children shriek and soon cry out;
For mother to take their tiny hands,
and keep them safe from Nature's demand.

The story always seems the same,
as turbulence settles after the rain;
And sunshine will prevail once more,
from Nature's promise to endure.

Persuasive notions locked away,
in many minds that go astray;
When working along cryptic lines,
which falter during chaotic times.

While hidden in a separate space,
these musings tend to be erased;
Forgotten now in empty spheres,
dissolve as echoes of chronic fears.

Perhaps society has been foretold,
of magic tales so brave and bold;
Yet through the mastery of lies,
they disappear before our eyes.

Inside the quaintly shuttered room,
the words seem subtle but still in tune;
When wanton tales aroused before,
a complex world of closing doors.