Empty branches Criss-cross the close and clouded sky, As I sit within the Winter space Dreaming of Long Lost Loves Of some other time, some other place, A summer sense of gentle breeze and ocean sent.
Standing upon a harbored wooden dock I slip the ropes from the mooring posts, And watch each love drift out to sea To vanish... just beyond Horizon's Point.
With a final sigh I turn And at long last... Face the plains of future sight.
Cold rain lingers in the air, As I look out upon the barren beach And listen to each cloud of silent breath.
Past a distant wind from wintry dunes, Fragments of new loves come to light, Pale shadows of what may yet come to be.
Caught between past and future love, I look up to the sky to see Clouds flying past the moons of lunar night.
The ghost of future loves melt into the deepening fog and mist
And I am left... alone upon a desert of freezing dirt.
I kneel upon the icy field, fingers touching stone and mud To find an ancient trail buried just beneath the rock.
It is but a trace… Evidence of One Who once long before wandered this very sight and wondered: "What eternal springs are there Embedded deep within each Autumn's dying grace?
