Now Long Shadows

I’m so weary
of being lost….
within these walls
no room to stand
nor space to think.

So I often crave a garden
a bed of flowers
to help me weep
but the only ones I see
belong to others –
leaving me…..
to just drift on past.

As I’m left
to watch the years
and wander to the sea –
where I close my eyes
and listen to shells
as these too…. are remnants
captured in the dunes.

Where has the mountain gone
which took me to the sun
this spirit of the mind -
now long shadows
washed out…. with the tide.

If I’m lost……
what good is the light –
if you can’t see who I am.