Email Poem

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Poem

I been down that road before . . . 
     losing direction, deep in thought . . .
Not about what could be ours
     but rather what it is we've got.
There seems nothing to be gained
     in the lost riddles of the past;
Cast the demons to the sea,
     hold good memories in your grasp.

Somewhere further down the road
     you'll find a house on solid ground;
There's only one mystery . . .
     in that the keys need to be found.
Many have passed by this way,
     having left footprints in the frost;
They may be amongst the ones
     who might now be forever lost.

The fields in the distance
     have held the crops of yesteryear,
They have fed the multitudes
     who had travelled from far and near.
Those whom tended to the growth
     passed their knowledge on to the young;
Each can only hold out hope
     they will continue what was begun.

As the road continues on
     you meet the searchers here and there,
Everyone looks to the door
     and there is tension in the air.
Some had searched the solid ground,
     others crawled o'er the crop furrows;
Everywhere seemed to be searched
     to the depths of badger's burrows.

As the sun sets in the west
     you think about those keys once more;
Long ago it was rumoured
     that they opened salvation's door.
The secret had been held tight,
     well hidden in the evensong;
The singers know that those keys
     were held in your heart all along.

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