Places of Long Ago
by Charles K. Aked (UK)
written October 7, 1992
O. time thou streamest on
And only by thy grace allow
All things to come to pass.
Naught changes thee and yet,
In all eternity so little
Of thee is given onto us.
Why then must we waste so much
Upon those things that even we
Cannot envisage due reward,
Nor pleasure in the doing;
Careless as we throw away
Treasure trove without a care.
Once I was young, not long ago,
Or so it seems,
yet the road I journeyed on now seems veiled;
Wrapt in mystery,
dark shadows Tendril-like creep silently
To dim the scenes of yesterday.
And approaching journey's end
doubts assail the questing mind,
What excuses shall we give If any,
or just mutely stand Knowing failure was our lot,
Although in honesty we tried.
Amidst all the hours of thought,
Does not even one slight thread
Lead to a small gleam of truth?
Why no revealing miracle,
Some indication, some reason,
To lead us to the quite unknown.
Alas our words are not enough,
To sculpt our thoughts or frame
Reason in a haloed gilt surround;
We need visions to stir those
Thoughts we know are there,
Could we but find their hiding place.
Source: NAWCC Bulletin, August 1998,
Volume 40/4 Number 315, Page 498