Time

Turning, I looked over my shoulder,

I was watching life’s scenes reappear,

when I looked in the mirror, I was older,

with the cries of past sins in my ears.

The past feels like a dark valley,

or a dark forest where soldiers were slain;

muddy rivers from a great storm’s finale,

an old mansion with spirits, insane.

And how do I find a wise answer,

to leaving the past far behind?

Sin glares from afar like a dancer,

whose smile is erotic and kind.

Wave upon wave of each memory,

crashing the shores in my mind,

pushing the sands of experience,

into dunes on a beach I can’t climb.

Until finally the winds of tomorrow,

grab hold and they rush me away;

To a place where there is no more sorrow;

and my mind always stays in today.

S.W. Biddulph, 2014