Inspiration... it comes from many different places, but always the same source.
Sometimes it’s a breeze that I follow
Walking across crackling leaves
Winding through the woods listening, listening…
That’s where we met.
Sometimes it’s a word inked on paper
Pondering the penman’s intent
Staring from a chair into the distance…
That’s where we met.
These times have no rhyme and no reason
These scenes have no action or cut
These moments are fleeting and forevermore
Some doors, once opened, never shut.
Sometimes it’s a dream in the darkness
Observing my future and past
Merging my memories with wishes, wishes…
That’s where we met.
Sometimes it’s the spark of a campfire
Relaxing and laughing with friends
Counting down the stars as they fade away…
That’s where we met.
These times have no rhyme and no reason
These scenes have no action or cut
These moments are fleeting and forevermore
Some doors, once opened, never shut.
I’m willing and waiting to know you
I’m breathing and listening still
I’m hoping without expectation
I’m trusting you’ll do what you will
Sometimes it’s a word in my sightline
Daring me to follow where it leads
Traveling the ether to my destiny…
That’s where we met.
c. 2/2/2022 by Bob Young
@vivalarayna Feb 2022
Nice flow to this piece. I hear it is a slow haunting tone, though I'm not sure how you intended it. You created many distinct and detailed images with these scenes, stitching them together with the "that's where we met" thread. Very effective.