The days are steps
and life a tunnel,
time cement
that pours in slowly;
with each breath
the quiet struggle
not to turn
and lose the race.
Songs are seasons
still returning,
held in palms
and whispered lowly;
helps the heart
to sail in darkness,
feeds the soul
a bit of grace.
Though I cannot
weep beside you
(mem’ry’s not
to be reached in),
tall smooth statue,
still i see you,
lovely you will
always be;
but I must go
always forward,
fearing time
will pour on me.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
The days are steps
and life a tunnel,
time cement
that pours in slowly;
with each breath
the quiet struggle
not to turn
and lose the race.
Songs are seasons
still returning,
held in palms
and whispered lowly;
helps the heart
to sail in darkness,
feeds the soul
a bit of grace.
Though I cannot
weep beside you
(mem’ry’s not
to be reached in),
tall smooth statue,
still i see you,
lovely you will
always be;
but I must go
always forward,
fearing time
will pour on me.
