You came again at the darkest hour
It has been so long
Foolishly I thought you had been banished
Are you beckoning me yet again
Even though I am bent from road weariness
The desire for journeys
Now just an old whisper in my soul
Despite this your voice
Still rings the bells in my mind
Trying to draw me back
With watery images of high times
A narrow vision of decades gone by
Hope comes at dawn
And a harsh light of reality
That will push your influence
Into the background of the past
Where you belong
Trying to draw me back
With watery images of high times
A narrow vision of decades gone by
Hope comes at dawn
And a harsh light of reality
That will push your influence
Into the background of the past
Where you belong
I am not sure where a "ghost" belongs...how many people walk hand in hand with "ghosts" everyday...Interesting to think about and imagine we can see them. I wonder how many "ghosts," I am holding hands with?
ReplyDelete"Are you beckoning me yet again?" Yes, yes, the passion we relive at night! I do believe it rejuvenates us for a bit, that it gives us an inner smile or frown that colors our day.
ReplyDeleteI read this as the lure of the open road......."now just an old whisper in my soul." Loved this, Robert.
ReplyDeleteyes it is Sherry the call never really goes away...
DeleteI don't think we ever lose that urge to take the road less travelled and discover something else about the world and ourselves!
ReplyDeleteOh, those plaguey ghosts that won'l shut up and face reality!
ReplyDeleteAha...You've been bitten by the wanderlust bug & I'm sure you'll never be road-weary :)
ReplyDeleteThe desire for journeys
ReplyDeleteNow just an old whisper in my soul... that had me thinking... will wanderlust dissipate and turn into a need for a stable comfort zone.
You create a brilliant atmosphere of longing
ReplyDeleteI love the supernatural and a ghostly poem is just what I needed this morning, Robert. I like the suggestion that this is a regular haunting in the line:
ReplyDelete'Are you beckoning me yet again'
and I love the lines
'The desire for journeys
Now just an old whisper in my soul'.
I really love "Into the background of the past."
ReplyDeleteAh for morning light, to press on forward.
ReplyDeletemuch love...
I have thoughts that return every single night that I'd like to never think again. It's not like I can control it. Wonderful work.
ReplyDeleteHow the night whispers to us Robert, reminds us of what was...
ReplyDeleteNever a one for the open road, of wanderlust, but I did have a passion for cycling. Now aching aged bones often prevent me from using my exercise bike as I can't climb on the damn thing...
Anna :o]
You never lose the urge to settle if you are a wanderer. Those who wander are not lost.Tolstoy ( I think) Enjoyed this poem.
ReplyDelete