Winding On To The Future (From, Spring Come Come) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Time is night and fire
Giving from its standing
Past and present desire
Nowhere to somewhere landing
All is written in days
Filling the links of hope
Ordinary present ways
Rules of the trail kaleidoscope
Winding on to the future
Streaming the lost track
With every part and suture
Those are of life's daypack
We are the preachers of fate
Further on to the looking
Each our given debate
Into souls psychics hooking
Jump to the new and the old
Mind is below and above
Somewhere to reach and hold
Full of its imaginations of
Endless in our own end
We have just this short journey
That we to our command bend
To give us some prosperity