Drifting

Drifting…drifting, ever so drifting am I on the aimless wind.

Thus carried am I by unseen forces to a destination unknown.

Hearts cry aloud into the void, silent voices whisper, whisper come home.

Children of tomorrow stare now with dark eyes at blank walls without dreams.

Ought now this to hope, this silent scream, this voiceless call is redeemed?

Should not the future see yesterday, nor tomorrow the dawn of a new day?

Oh but to sleep the sleep of angels, to tread the paths of a world at peace.

To only for a moment taste the essence of old dreams resurrected amidst a new sea?

Silent is the night as still the ghost of yesterday continues to haunt the mind.

Yet, even in hope; even though dark eyes stare at blank walls…to each is his time.

J. Allen Wilson © 10/17/2009