The Passing Moments

I kindle a candle at every bend as years of life I routinely spend. It is in the haze of one such light that I step as a man this passing night with a vision fresh and emboldened. The sands have trickled through the hour-glass and new perspective holds yonder a promise befogged but true in the endless fields of future A clinquant brightness shines ahead should I sing a dirge for the dead years? Or rejoice for the lucre in the offing and a mellifluous chanson I will sing A lot I leave and more I seek but its a tale of perfidy, and bleak nature; to think of my loss and gain and of the happy and youthful rain that inspires noble thoughts within as also the same nostalgic gloaming that thaws my heart and stirs a pain of soft-bedded dreams so lucent that destiny has so cruelly hent but then, I dream again! Thus I leap forward, toward light and what’s left behind, I never might turn to gather, but in my doting hours under a starlit, pensive night wonder at those bygone stars.