I sing of wood and morning
I sing
of wood
and morning,
the beach,
the skies,
the waves
that reach
and slow
upon the windswept
curve
of shore,
For in the time
it takes
for the tides,
the passing,
and fall
of days,
the dawn
will rise
in years,
and walks
in footsteps
across
the sands,
a hundred,
no, a thousand
different ways.
For all
is a journey
from what
was
to become,
to what may,
the future memories
of all those
who have
passed
and will pass
again,
this way.
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
