My soul has chased the great pleasures of yesterday.
Through the years,
the pictures that have been weaving my strands.
As my bridge hangs across its gorge.
That loosely swings ---- to and fro with a light breeze.
As i trespass the narrows of my memories.
My phantom footsteps have weakened,
and betrayed me.
Leaving behind its bewilderment.
Drifting gracefully or delicate in confused harmony.
In the splashing of my tears ---- i have searched deeply.
In my trembling wings of flight.
Oh gentle love ---- i let go.
Penned by
~ Rick Ryckman ~
