Far away it seems to me
An ocean must exist
Of moments floating to a sea
In rivers full of mist
And if I should by some strange lead
Find its elusive thread
Then I could watch moments recede
As Time flows on ahead
And in this gathering place of sighs
And smiles and hugs and tears
We would never say good-bye
Nor count the days and years
Until at last we meet again
For moments would not slip
Like whispers on an autumn wind
From longing fingertips
If I, by some strange twist of rhyme
Found its reclusive track
Would I first rush ahead of time
Before I could turn back?
For what of all those moments lost
In heartbeats caught between?
Do moments slip into the past
Or shape the unforeseen?
Far away it seems to me
An ocean must exist
Of moments drifting to a sea
On endless shores of mist
But time is a mysterious tide
Relentlessly it goes
I simply cannot quite decide
Which way its river flows
Janet Martin
And what began this river's flow? No dream revealing some special line?
ReplyDeleteI mentioned the other day that not all poems are fabulous. I was wrong.
You ask a very valid question, Mike BECAUSE I was turning the computer off at a very late, early hour when a tug I could not ignore SERIOUSLY...urged me to flip up a blank page. This one was written on a flying leap of faith because I had no idea where the river would flow as I began writing. When the poem was finished I sort of shook my head, the whole thing being quite unexpected! and also the fruit of sub-conscious musing.
ReplyDeleteYour kind encouragement is always deeply appreciated. Thank-you.