Unknown
A poem of transience
There are those that came before us
Where they are now nobody knows
We come and we go like winds that blow
Blossom and die like a beautiful rose.
Most tracks are trodden and hidden
By dust and in winter by snows
That blanket and obliterate signs of
Those that have gone where nobody knows.
It’s unknown who came along this track
And no clues left on the path to disclose
Where ere these people came from
I don’t know and can only suppose.
I often wonder about the unknown
When we’re blown to the end of the road
Will there be a place of ease and grace
Near the banks where the water flowed.
When I walk by the shore in the morning
And look out past the branches and trees
I can hear distant gulls calling
From far off near the seven seas.
There are passages leads to oblivion
Some soar above in the sky
Like large eagles floating on air waves
Some glide whilst others will die.
This morning I stand on the transom
And gaze past the end of the world
My sails are set at the ready
To hoist when they are unfurled.
©
David Rudder
27th March 2021
Thanks for reading.
