The sounds of the birds and life in the world,
they counter the state of a troubled mind.
A tree that I may never see mature,
it all continues unbroken
in time.
A fire from above, a thunderbird\'s chime
slow the flows of shattered thoughts
in a wearied mind.
Searing languish in a threadbare line
that points to all that ever was of life
sublime.
Moments spent with those who cared,
moments realized after being spared
the darkness of the ending tides.
But the deep dark chime comes so often
to remind
of forward motions,
final devotions
entwined
and running out of time.
All that once was, of youth enshrined
the fine line that leads to here, to now,
how was this short short path mine to find?
Of anguish.
Of loss.
Gone are the words to describe what
once would\'ve been an easy heartfelt rhyme
of hope, of forward motion ...
now slowed
now declined in scope
on a slope of descent -
a lament of never doing more.
\"Oh to have known!\",
the thoughts of those at the end of their ropes.
Now, just solitary notes
from a score
on the shore
with vast open doors
to the waters, and the depths
below ...