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Lorelei La

The Time Has Come

328 views 2 months ago
There may be sadness in the passing of the tide,
Or a sense of loss in a moment moving by,
Slipping and sliding beyond our reach, like a boat on fast flown water,
Snatching and rubbing raw your grasp until you let it go,
The stretching until breaking of a thread that snaps and lash to bleeding,
The connection of a section severed and untethered,
A drifting sense of being not what one was before,
Or a realisation that the face you recognised no more,
The look of care that passes and becomes a care worn snarl,
Or someone who is not what you thought they were at all,
Yet there is no blaming in the mirror that you held,
For the mirror reflects your own face and not anothers,
And there is no score to even, or even any score.
There comes a time when time is gone and time to turn away,
A time to let go of the time you thought you held sway,
A farewell in the breeze, an acknowledging of passing,
Matching illusions melt away, the mirage seen and then is gone,
The echoing footsteps are no more, a walk alone enhancing,
There are so many roads and many ways for us to walk along,
The way we turn our gaze and who we look upon,
The facets of the diamond may reflect the light,
But only if we hold it up and do no fight or flight,
And yet, and yet, the time has come to sing our different songs,
The songs are not the same, they jar and scrape and limit,
So for us to be the flock we are, to catch the drift that pulls us on,
Can only now be done apart, no more in throng or tandem,
Birds might need two wings to fly and swoop and soar,
But wings that try to fly two ways at once will never get too far.

CP 9/02/14

Music: Mr Ju -- Moving on the other side
Jamendo.com
Creative commons licence
http://www.jamendo.com/en/t...
Read more
There may be sadness in the passing of the tide,
Or a sense of loss in a moment moving by,
Slipping and sliding beyond our reach, like a boat on fast flown water,
Snatching and rubbing raw your grasp until you let it go,
The stretching until breaking of a thread that snaps and lash to bleeding,
The connection of a section severed and untethered,
A drifting sense of being not what one was before,
Or a realisation that the face you recognised no more,
The look of care that passes and becomes a care worn snarl,
Or someone who is not what you thought they were at all,
Yet there is no blaming in the mirror that you held,
For the mirror reflects your own face and not anothers,
And there is no score to even, or even any score.
There comes a time when time is gone and time to turn away,
A time to let go of the time you thought you held sway,
A farewell in the breeze, an acknowledging of passing,
Matching illusions melt away, the mirage seen and then is gone,
The echoing footsteps are no more, a walk alone enhancing,
There are so many roads and many ways for us to walk along,
The way we turn our gaze and who we look upon,
The facets of the diamond may reflect the light,
But only if we hold it up and do no fight or flight,
And yet, and yet, the time has come to sing our different songs,
The songs are not the same, they jar and scrape and limit,
So for us to be the flock we are, to catch the drift that pulls us on,
Can only now be done apart, no more in throng or tandem,
Birds might need two wings to fly and swoop and soar,
But wings that try to fly two ways at once will never get too far.

CP 9/02/14

Music: Mr Ju -- Moving on the other side
Jamendo.com
Creative commons licence
http://www.jamendo.com/en/t... Show less

Photography Play

At some point rather than presenting my photos individually I decided I enjoyed putting them together to give a rounder picture and more layers, so, here some of my photos and moving footage, often set to music

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