The days of our lives.
In life we are at home, in death we are gone.
In sorrow we mourn the death of a loved one.
Without consequence we would not know what is wrong.
Forever we are searching for a place to belong.
As we grow our wings, we venture off into the distance.
A life of memories behind us; a gift from the gifted.
In light we find ourselves surrounded by mystery;
What next on this journey? What next in this story?
What next to see and who is looking inside?
The tale of our experiences…the days of our lives.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
-
Author:
Aa Harvey (
Offline) - Published: July 16th, 2017 03:11
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments1
Very good write. Our experiences preclude our life.
Thank you.
"You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops
She said baby, I still love you
Sometimes there's nothin' left to do
Oh you got to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I'm standing right here, you got to
Just hold on."
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.