Sojourn

Who said all that is green is golden,
The warbler to the gentle birch calls.
When actions fade as years roll on,
The memories become rolling clouds.
Where softly spoken lies tickle, caress,
The wind across the golden, grassy plain.
Whose words so balmy leave only dew,
The oats, broken and bent, cry to the moon.
Who tried again and again only to fail, for
The tide's ebb and flow drowns all sound.

Weep not the day's last rays,
Or wasted hours spent pining,
For what was will never be,
And what will be is now,
The soul's journey.



24 July 2006
-Hez

Dedicated to Super K, may you find the courage and strength within.