Returning to the confidence Recovering the hope, that was lost Remembering, a way of being, that is so far, lost, in the distance. Perhaps, it is a book, I recall reading, a story, about another’s life. The author, also, unknown forgotten I know, it is not possible, to retrace, one’s steps. Evaluating, old things would just be, a different way, of seeing, the same things. It is impossible to separate myself, from what, I have become. Impossible, to think outside, the context, of what, I am now. Today, will always remain, Yesterday’s, Future. Yet, I want to know, what my, Yesterday’s self, would have made of, the self, of today. Would I, have seemed as, distant and strange, as the past, seems now? How I long, for the confidence, of youth. The insatiable, hunger for tomorrow. The sureness, that all, will be well. Hope, Beckoning, like a lighthouse, on the horizon.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Sep 2014 16:58:25 +0000
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