where is this place
i find myself
sitting in my silence
music in drift
open sky shares
blue is the warm wind
my body feels old
yet
i’m at ease
southern rhyme
time lies lost
as in an older man’s
whispers
so much already said
so much already lived
still
tomorrow is more then
just another day
what echoes dare to remind
in a moment of youth and
dreaming winds
tomorrow a mirror image of yesterday
where is this place
memory or reality
That is a natural fact, my friend it surely is that . . . An image, but it doesn't have to be that way. The image doesn't have to be a mirror image, there is room to learn from it, and maybe even make it better . . .
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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Love ya!
Jane
Much reflection and pondering from a later age in life. Thank you for the picture. And for your bio which tells much about where you are coming from.
Ron
That is a natural fact, my friend it surely is that . . . An image, but it doesn't have to be that way. The image doesn't have to be a mirror image, there is room to learn from it, and maybe even make it better . . .