A Scene Seen

In a dream.

Photograph by Author.

Things are never simple,
neither black nor white,
Shades of grey appear each day,
Morning, noon and night.

On a path walked in the past
I’ve been this way before,
Where life leads me
Into the evermore.

New ideas colour fears,
Times won’t be the same again,
The past is ancient history,
It is the orchestral refrain.

We’ll learn to do things differently,
There’s time to re-design,
my usual way of thinking,
And write it down in rhyme.

What has passed has time to last,
more time for reminiscing,
And the question I must ask,
What am I missing?

I miss those that are close,
and taking a long drive,
a road trip of discovery,
That lets my senses thrive.

I’m also realistic,
Some ideologies never change,
Can we live much better now?
A concept not too strange.