Moods of Change Drift Wood Paths

Moods of Change I have sensed, I feel, I have seen, growing impressions imprinted upon the walls, inside my skull, impressions that hang heavy within my D.N.A, like ghostly shadows streaking across the empty spaces of my minds windows as my days and nights – closing in on me – seem to be slipping away, – being dragged ever onward – into a sea of black holes,– with such gravitational force - you’ll find me being sucked in, along with those leaving the last ray of their life’s light, always fighting all that comes our way, hanging on tightly to the fragile edges of what remains to day of a reality, that has long since, gone to memory, gone to dust, blown away by winds telling a story of lives lived, experiences had and of life decaying as we walk this plane, for a better future, we are praying --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Drift Wood There is this used less appendage that once – maybe – during the course of a passing month, rises, falls, becomes the useless, meaningless, remnant of the past, a standing protrusion, that does little more then lay idle, even at times, when it gets revved up, --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Paths As we come to the end of that long road, it becomes much harder to carry the load, find a path that our psyche legs can climb as they take us from a journey, once sublime and into the past that has come in rhyme. B. J. “A ” 2 January 28th 2004