I have a thought that drives me back
to the time when I was
young.
I have a
key to that old
lock;
The one that hides the songs
unsung.
The brilliant light that shines today
on the
fertile soil of now,
hides the darkest row of
field;
The one I dare not ever
plow.
I am remembering the good day.
I am kneeling by the
stone.
Forgotten is the wrong way,
the way that left me all alone.
I have a thought that lingers ever
after all these
golden years.
I have a torch that flickers brightly,
and dries the long-shed
tears.
I climb always through the clearing now,
with its piercing
yellow sun.
It blinds me and it shields me
from the thing that can't be done.
I am remembering the good day.
I am kneeling by the
fire.
Forgotten are the old ways,
for here
I am but higher.