Through a boarded up window with bars, a street sign, a passing car in the rain.
A long time at home a wave and then a farewell.
She was a beauty and her smile warmed the world around her.

Her song was sung, loud and strong, a wind of soothing sounds that pacifies the wars across the land, within the hearts and souls of the ones living  for the island of dreams.

Freedom.

A long goodbye, a long walk towards the light, the end of the tunnel, the end of the road, the end of an April filled with blessings and blossoming flowers and leaves.
October’s harvest Moon, strung lights are being hung across the trees. Upon the streets, trees are uprooted and suddenly, dreams are reality.

A short street, a long walk, times up.

Times up.

Through the window I see a young boy and girl walking hand in hand.
They are wearing backpacks and school clothing and laughing out loud.
A short walk through the forest and a lake, a swim and the sun dries them off.

When you are young – So strange how one day you are running wild and the next you are 70 years old and focusing on the past.

The sound from the closing doors of the subway several blocks away sounds as if its coming from my back room.

Claustrophobic ambitions can never set one free.
Thunderstorms and broken inhibitions are a recipe for love.

Will you ever believe, the hands on the clock are spinning wildly?
Can you truly conceive that the story will one day end and it will all be over?

Times up, look up and see which way the clouds are spinning.
Look up – don’t look down cant you see the train is coming your way?

Heading your way?