I wonder about what might remain,
the pieces of me throughout a memory,
is it my own, someone I knew,
a circumstance I cannot return.
If I were to wander far enough into the forest,
might I be sure to follow
a traveling analogy
holding promise for tomorrow.
Forever is the time we remember,
when everything else we know
falls victim to promise,
our lives amidst the mix
of the masses.
Who might ever recall a sadness,
when a happy moment awaits,
shoring up the energy
the human condition.
Cast away the doubt of recall,
for there might be some journey
we could never predict,
yet plod on forward with a smile.
If asked what it is I might be listening
now in the twilight of winter
beckon the cool winds of a sky
waiting to descend
sweet air of a crystal midnight.
Oh if I might seek such is time,
would discovery ease a life strain.
© Thom Amundsen 2019