The lazy river, large,
filled with
water that carried my
memories of youth, and
a friend of my past,
both downstream,
flowing away, flowing
finding the easiest way,
to go to the lowest point,
so much liquid,
so many years,
some failures,
some fears,
Childhood, has those
but now,
       now what do I have?

What does anyone have?
Use your talents,
Use your gifts,
Before time is dead,
walked on like a too
traveled path, warm or cold
to where you
find your past.

Lest the swollen
river, calls and you
listen, leaving you
only to believe that
what you look for
is downstream.

Use your talents,
Use your gifts,
Be swift for
night falls into the
river,
it may catch you
as it drops by.
Dragging down
the future, in the
present tension,
until at last
you only can
live searching
for the past.

Unable to
tell the stories,
or enjoy the glories,
of the gifts you shared
of the talents you carved
into my memories,
of the time we spent
under the canvas of night
dotted white with God's Artistry,
until that day,
when my phone rang,
and they said you were gone,
                        you were gone,
And i touched the cold with my
my hand, my lips and my warm tears
knowing you had already gone
and did fly away,
                               oh glory.


©DWE082013