when we make the journey back in time and place
it isn't easy to recall the turning of the wheel
the way the rough road under our feet would feel
instead we concentrate on remembering each face
each turning of the road the framing of the space
by hill and sky and sea and what the honest deal
was that gave us power over both fire and steel
the journey outwards has been a long hard race
were there truly mornings when the sun rose at ten
the ancient forests stretching out old night
while sunset came to us from the western sea
an honest answer makes each day live again
and dusty memory comes back into plain sight
the rules that were return and time must flee
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
21 April 2007
a time of wonder
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