I see the future emblazoning on past history.
Staring at mirrored souls in a glass of replete.
Knowing fate is enthroned in a mystery.
Stitching a new seam, another day’s greet.

Clouds are covering the new moon from my sight.
Trees bending their will to the mirage at hand.
Mirrored souls are only a silhouette of the night.
An unforeseen journey on foreign land.

Looking inside self, I gaze upon a soul, yearning to fly.
Yet remains standing on this earth, steadfast.
Gazing at the sunset already nigh.
Counting the sands, never a last.

Poet Dorothy poetry99@txol.net Copyrighted 2000