Panes of Glass
Panes of glass in my soul divide me from my past
Portals that serve as the windows into my future
Yet clearly distort the visions of my present tense
Frosty panes on the periphery of my vision ahead
Wavy, hazy rain streaked dusty and cracked obscure
Coats the window with grime from the road’s voyage
Mirror to the rear shows the receding ways taken
Those paths not chosen, not explored, detoured away
May suggest that the views now studied would differ
Is that better or worse or simply not the same as today?
But if we took another voyage down alternative highways
Would the panes show us the same in the mirror behind?
As water drops seek the same path from here to there
Newton’s laws joining the same river from diverse streams
Would I still see a similar vista as our paths converge?
Or is this expedition uniquely dependent upon our fate
Decorated with the dusty mud and stones of the road taken
Always different but the same as forever in its timely physics
Like a door passed through, does light pass in transiting a pane
Glass clear or hazy, bending the beams into prisms of color
Yesterday impacting on how I steer my life into tomorrow
Come along for the ride, sit next to me and call out the road signs
Enjoy your view and wipe away the frosted breath so I can see
Our vistas may not be the same, but I can still turn and see you
Copyright © Patrick Frost | Year Posted 2017
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