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The glade of golden shadows.
A poem of life.

Life’s quicksilver on my shoulder
Drifted fleetingly to me
Those serpentine remembrances
Of who we came to be,
When all we had were promises
And all we shared were dreams
Like a glade of golden shadows
Dipped in sunset’s painted streams.

Reverberating through my day
The certainty of time
Making changes to my story
Putting endings to my rhyme,
Making sure my understanding
Goes much further than my sight
As my voyage of discovery
Gently reaches for the light.

Like soft breath upon a mirror
Clouded diamond veils are cold
For my story has some chapters
That have not as yet been told,
A mirror casts so many views
Of how my life can be
The only limit really is
How many I can see.

The whispered ending of a prayer
Comes drifting through my being
For some thing’s promise so much more
As feeling does to seeing,
And every prayer I ever said
Lives in a different way
Like Amen painted sunsets
When there is no more to say…


© 2017 WHITBYPOET1 (All rights reserved)


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