Life slowly drifts by, like a twig carried by the current of a mounatin stream.
We meet others as we drift onward toward the sea so divine,
Our minds can not a clear picture hold.
How precious our journey has thus become,
We dance to tunes that from memory are played in a whirl.
Each day becomes a memory, Our minds relive each passing day,
In places we run fast with the wild current tossing us around as if in a dream.
In others we drift in tranqullity of a still water without a sound.
Casting shadows on the canyon walls that does so plentiful abound.
The end of a journey that tranverse both space and time.
Some become life long friends, in partenership with our souls,
Other's are like flowers that bloom and share a few moments of beauty untold .
Each passing ripple a story has told.
Created from darkness the eerie shadows do fall,
Grayed images reflecting leaveing us in awe.
Each day we travel further from our home.
Floating this river of life, daring to wish, hope and dream.
Seeking to find understanding, we study each passing scene.
Like the shadows on the walls we stand a part from the world.
Each day we drift onward, knowing not what we will find
Shadows cast against the brightness of life's design,
As we Dance and dream with the Shadows from yesterday.
