(The Friday Forgotten #003)
A season to dance
A season to dream
While some huddle close to the flames of log fires
Others wander cold sands
Etched by pounding winter waves
But the longing is the same
Sands of time
Sands of the hour glass
A magical kingdom in a grain of sand
He was a traveler
Seeking the frozen secrets of a land long forgotten
He was different
For some
Watching the flames is not enough
For some
Wandering the same shoreline is not enough
Just to watch a cricket game
Zaps the spirit
For some
The world is simply the wrong shape
This time
His journey consumed weeks of time
Time out
Or perhaps really
Time in
Finally he returned
Dusty
Jagged
Unironed
Some would say wild
The day was windy
The air was chilled
And he found her lingering by the tiny waves
Tumbling on the shoreline
I will bring you back a hand full of sand
On a windy day.
Some will go into your hand
Some will drift on the wind
Like I think it should.
We shouldn't really own anything which belongs to the earth ey?
Hands gently reaching
A little sand for the dance and the dream
A little sand for the winds of time
A little sand for the soul
~
3 comments:
This poem is a whimsical comment about being an individual, thinking outside the square, being different!!! And enjoying the freedom of it!!!
Love the ending - you nailed it!
Thank you for visiting The Friday Forgotten and linking your post. Your imagination and creativity should never lie dusty in a dark corner of your blog. We are happy to help clear away the cobwebs. (We have fixed our linking issues sorry for the hassles)
You captured the spirit and freedom that goes along with choosing your own path. I enjoyed reading this.
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