Wagons of Time Still Turning, A Poem

 

There was a time

When our hearts

Ached to stretch

Across these valleys

To cross the earthen walkways

That span the horizon

We sought a future

That did not belong to us

A promise never given

Never kept

Yet still, we rode on

The wagons of time

Still turning

Through fields of golden grass

Crickets chirping

And we wondered,

When would we get there?

When would we know?

We would sigh

Move our rucksack

Exchanging one shoulder

For another

And carry on

Laying the path

Seeking the gold

And finding ourselves

Lost in longing.

Now, fences divide the lands

And barely does man

Have time to cross the span

To contemplate the journey

Or to find the dream.

 

© Sumyanna 2016

 

Beautiful image courtesy of Morguefile (JLHILLEARY)

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. maureenrose7 says:

    you are very welcome! 🙂 ❤ 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. maureenrose7 says:

    i wonder sometimes if our journey is our dream..the human spirit and how it keeps us going is simply amazing dont you think? i enjoy your writings and all of the lovely photos as well glad i found your blog! ❤

    Like

    1. sumyanna says:

      I definitely do agree with you maureenrose! I truly find amazement in that. Thank you so very much for your kind words. So very glad 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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