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.
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