Memory
Down the path into the past,
beyond the stream that’s rushing fast,
I smell the fragrant cedar bough.
Was it the same then as it is now?
I need no ticket in my hand
to travel to that byegone land.
There ferns and leaves and trilliums grow
in the woods of my long ago.
I watch the water’s murky flow.
Is that where all my memories go?
Shadows and silence fill the air.
Old dreams and thoughts are everywhere.
I hear an owl up in a tree;
I think he feels the same as me.
Coming back from his lonely flight
to find a home – a place to light.
But perhaps it isn’t really home,
only another place to roam.
An ancient place that I must find
Within the forest of my mind.
February 24, 1975
Down the path into the past,
beyond the stream that’s rushing fast,
I smell the fragrant cedar bough.
Was it the same then as it is now?
I need no ticket in my hand
to travel to that byegone land.
There ferns and leaves and trilliums grow
in the woods of my long ago.
I watch the water’s murky flow.
Is that where all my memories go?
Shadows and silence fill the air.
Old dreams and thoughts are everywhere.
I hear an owl up in a tree;
I think he feels the same as me.
Coming back from his lonely flight
to find a home – a place to light.
But perhaps it isn’t really home,
only another place to roam.
An ancient place that I must find
Within the forest of my mind.
February 24, 1975
Nicholson Pink Rhodies
1973
1974
1975
1970s
2009
HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!!!
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