Criss-cross the close and clouded sky,
As I sit within the Winter space
Dreaming of Long Lost Loves
Of some other time, some other place,
A summer sense of gentle breeze and ocean sent.
Standing upon a harbored wooden dock
I slip the ropes from the mooring posts,
And watch each love drift out to sea
To vanish... just beyond Horizon's Point.
With a final sigh I turn
And at long last...
Face the plains of future sight.
Cold rain lingers in the air,
As I look out upon the barren beach
And listen to each cloud of silent breath.
Past a distant wind from wintry dunes,
Fragments of new loves come to light,
Pale shadows of what may yet come to be.
Caught between past and future love,
I look up to the sky to see
Clouds flying past the moons of lunar night.
The ghost of future loves melt
into the deepening fog and mist
And I am left... alone
upon a desert of freezing dirt.
I kneel upon the icy field,
fingers touching stone and mud
To find an ancient trail
buried just beneath the rock.
It is but a trace…
Evidence of One
Who once long before
wandered this very sight and wondered:
"What eternal springs are there
Embedded deep within each
Autumn's dying grace?