There Be What's Left
There’s a window to the world
three steps beyond a gate
That’s been shut to those that pass
as the hours grow late.
Footprints that once led the way
form circles in the sand,
Turning from tomorrow’s mist
and yesterday’s lost land.
Hearts are hung just out of view
in the darkness of time,
Echoes of their history
have bowed to the sublime.
Fear has taken o’er the road
that leads to the unknown,
Futures dance within the winds
which are now held on loan.
Whispers ride upon the breeze,
foretelling of a bloom
That will rise above the dust
once gathered by the gloom.
Life has played an unwired tune
carried away by theft,
Leaves the barefoot traveller
searching for what’s been left.
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