Time, like seasons past......

Winds of seasons past, left shimmering,
Tiny silver sparkles awash in night’s glow,
Perusing many lost melodic reflections,

Stilling the shrieking of yesterday’s call,
Intimate metaphors remain bounded there,
Inside, feeding on our mental charges.

Left in anguished darkness with no solace,
Countless sessions ado inside our hearts,
Focusing on mending broken dreams.

Where do we begin, when the end,
Is now at hand, rising ever so fast?
Like angry tidal waves, rushing forth,

There is no door, I have found it so,
None to push open, no looking glass,
That will lead us back into the past.

Footprints in the sand begin to fade,
When stepped into too many times,
Time itself, is what we contend with,

Like the winds of seasons past,
That shimmers but cannot send forth,
It no longer touches that which it affected.






Time - Alan Parsons Project
Mp3-Codes.com

Reviews

[Sarah Nicole Nadler]

I like the metaphors u use. Very pretty poem.

[An owl on the moon]

In a beautifully, haunting way you show us that we stand in the stream of time... and though we can look back, we can never again travel there.. we must let go... move on to making new footprints in the now.. So profound.