Tags
age, direction, distant now, dreams, home, hope, knowledge, life, love, memory, reflection, time, years
the trees
were praying
as the sun slipped low
to shadows cast
much longer
this
threadbare soul
these brittle bones –
a verse or so
becoming
aged hopes
of a seasoned heart
a path where none
remember
time is bent
to the shape of life
to the curse of ways
uncharted
. . .
Ah Bobbie, but isn’the age all of a life’s experiences spiced with joy and heartbreak and happiness and pain, tempered by mediocrity. …and would we change it ??? (Well, maybe)………………..xo
Never!!!! I don’t view my cup as half full but rather not quite big enough to hold all my blessings, my joys, my bliss! ❤
Love that attitude, Bobbie! 🙂
Love the message in your words!
Love to you, dear brother!
Spirit soothes the soul, when lost in the wilderness of form. We count our day, and yet we know we are timeless…
….eternity just beyond the illusion…..