Labyrinth Poem by Patti Masterman
Labyrinth
We move through life
As it moves us;
A traveller, wary-
A loosened thread.
We go one way,
And then another;
There is no map,
There is no path.
We take our days,
The long good-byes,
Each day made new
With joy or blight.
It's memory that lifts us.
It's memory, that wounds us.
Yeah, you are right. We should try to live the present. Very nice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 10:20:48 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Excellent title, like the opening of a river, the words flowing with life's reality. Very, very good.