The Secret

The Boy lifts his head;

Yonder, whisper the rustling blades

Of golden grass; yonder –

The Secret; he climbs the crest of the hill…

 

There – towering before him, the work

Of days gone by, a True beauty,

Wrought by forces unimaginable

Frozen in Time, the Only of its kind.

 

A step behind him; the Boy turns –

A voice in his ear, laughter;

A wash of memories breaking through,

Pulling at that ghostly veil…

 

I open my eyes, blinking – all is black.

Yet a flicker of a smile finds my face;

And Time, relentless, marches on…

 

~ Jordan Strobach-Morris, 10.03.2015

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s