The Wind

When I was young through beauties gaze

winds blew by me as if to sing

Their songs of love to me were praise

that lifted me upon their wing

 

Rich did the spoils of time unroll

an empire's trophies I would raise

And write my name across life's scroll

to earn the laurels of friend's praise

 

Can anyone know what will come

when the wind blows us cold and gale

Or what direction it be from

when finally we set our sail

 

But now those days are tempered dear

time's winds no longer sing for me

For now the quiet hush I hear

makes life's truth so easy to see

 

Author's Note

Time has a way of answering our questions if we listen.

Reviews

[Mark]

I don't really understand what God's plan is in this regard, that our abilites and even our destinies seem to remain hidden from us in large measure (if not totally) until we are old, and, looking back, mutter, "Oh, yeah, there's where I shoulda..." I hear in this verse a certain degree of that wistfulness, that regret, and as might be apparent, I can identify with those sentiments completely. May I add here that your ability to render deep and complex thoughts in perfectly crafted rhyme and meter is such a rare ability here, and I commend you highly; it is what, in my not-at-all-humble opinion, changes a mere philosophical ramble into a poem.

[profile deleted]

deep & almost confusing.. but is a great poem.. Take a look at my last few writings if you will :) Have a great day Tate!