Poetry 11
(c) Candace
A cool grey expanse, devoid of all features,
A silence so still and so loud is deafening
Where the only sounds are the polite echos
And the harsh glaring brightness has no light
No color - no sound - neither cold nor warm
Nothing to cast a shadow or to draw the eye
In this place there is no looking forward or back
With out time yet forever, neither a place or time
And standing at the center there is no direction
And even there in the glare to cast no shadow
The nothingness is silent - but it is also peaceful
And it sings a lullabye of the lies thar are lonely
The day breaks into the soft gold of dawn,
And my eyes open on the wonder of it all.
Our journey and adventure begins
As my heart answers this world's call.
And the day blossoms with jewel tones
Offering a wealth of unending delight,
Opening into a joyous riot of color,.
Wonder and beauty filling my sight.
Then the day progresses into sunset,
Colors that wrap me in warmth and love
Bathing my soul in deep rich tones,
As our day follows it's plan from above.
All too soon we see the silvery moon.
She is hopeful that we have, along the way,
Gathered wisdom to see the day's gifts
As she smiles on the close of our day.
Even in our sadest moments there are treasures to be found - if we but open our heart and look
Quiet sentinals, watching from outside our view
Close enough to touch us, to wrap their love around our hearts.
For now we see them only in dreams and memories,
Gone now from our lives but forever and always a part.
Was it so long ago they were a small ball of fur and fun?
Has it been so long since they were a strong and regal youth?
Did we not see them change with age slowly before our eyes?
We saw them only with love, blinding us to the truth.
Their time is short compared to ours, we know this but deny it,
Blindly hoping we can hold back the sands of time.
So we are never ready to let go and are not ready to see
That life and time flow in a circle and not a straight line.
And so they leave us but they don't really leave us,
For their spirits circles back to watch over us with love.
Quiet sentinals, watching from outside our view
Waiting for us to complete our tasks and rejoin them above.
We build tomorrows in our mind
dreams of what we hope to be
and hope to find some of them
in the future that we hope to see.
We find as we grow that dreams
are elusive sprites or illusions
and our childish dreams are tempered,
shaped by reality and times conclusions.
As tomorrows in our hourglass dwindle and slow
and we see the few we have gained
we see they were merely markers on the road
perhaps never meant to be attainedtime
