Higher, higher, higher, where broken dreams can’t go
and I find I have no wings folded in my will
to overcome the memory of emotive love.
Run, run, run away, to where the ocean roams
but the river is in me and I carry memories
in the current of my feel.
Too long, too long, this corridor of dreams
purporting to be real
but death of flesh and bone no mercy for the soul
destined to rise and run beyond horizons of the sun.
Sad and lonely is the river
meandering through dreams
and losing force and volume
to life’s everyday demands
purporting to be real.
Spun and tossed in rapids of purported truths …
and still the river flows!
"Spun and tossed in rapids of purported truths …
ReplyDeleteand still the river flows! "
Yes, yes, it does and will forever.
Nice write Helen. I enjoy reading you.
Jamie
Jamie - There's something so comforting in that word "forever" don't you think?
ReplyDeleteSee you in "forever".
Helen