It flows down to sea Into the air Becomming part of the clouds My mind searches for the time before Where are the normal times? Wondering do I really want that Things have changed For good or for bad Does it have to be either? Things change Like the seasons It flows down the river Swiftly you grow, adapt, live You change, and die Start over? The pain is there The joy is there Blending, melding, becomming Decision again Wondering do I really want that It flows down the street Where did I get off? Did I get on? It flows from me Decision made Does it matter? It was in the past It may be in the future It is now It is apart of me Starshyne January 1997 Return to Poetry |