my dear friend Candle Maker
|The windchimes ringing on the garden fence
Apprise me of their sound as I pass by.
With coming storm they resonate suspense
As darkness greys the shadow of my eye.
Though barefoot in the rain, I do not run.
The wind cries out as if it screams my name.
I wonder what it is that I have done
That broke my stride and rendered me this lame.
The way is rocky often to the end.
I see your orchard gate just up ahead.
The windchimes tinkle "welcome, my dear friend."
It's here your solace reigns, my spirit's fed.
When all roads end another leads to you.
In shelter of your light all things renew.
partially inspired by "Invalid Item" by A Guest Visitor
Bob's response: "Invalid Item" by A Guest Visitor