Doors to our past hide myriad thoughts.
We see beyond into smoky rooms
Of happy faces or scenes distraught
And concentrate on glees or glooms.
We hope to bring into clearer assent
The effect of timeworn passage
On rekindled feelings or past events.
But the doors will not assuage.
Smoky echoes of timeless past
So close, so far, like windy wisps,
Recall images that will not last
Or soft sounds that faintly lisp.
Yet deep within us experience resides
Forming our being, shaping our lives,
Plotting each step of measured strides
As knowing into eternity strives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the echoes of timeless past, recalling images, and how it shapes us through our experiences as you have so aptly stated in your poem. Wonderful poem casting light on life as we strive towards eternity. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn