This poem was written for a poetry contest. A couple of weeks earlier, my dad passed away. I was still grieving and still hadn't shed any tears from his passing. When I began the poem, it was to be about something else. But this was the first and only draft, it seems God directed my heart and my pen (fingers typing). So with 12 lines of poetry, I remembered my life with my dad. The result of the poetry contest you ask? It was selected as one of about fifty others for third place. The poem is the namesake of my blog.
Roads of Time
Walking the lonely roads of time, I face myself.
The puffs of dust gently follow the slight air,
As the grains fall slowly, they echo my despair.
Raising my eyes, misery lies on the shelf.
The pounding in my chest never ceases, ever drumming
hopes of newness unknown, wilting my joy forever.
Creasing brow tangles the web of larger endeavor.
Cautious moments bloom again into smiles of humming.
Stalking the days of glory on sun-drenched youth,
Seas foaming, calling back to visions once held.
Last images always haunt minds gazing truth,
Praising battles fought in life alone and felled.
Robert Dodson
May 1995
Walking the lonely roads of time, I face myself.
The puffs of dust gently follow the slight air,
As the grains fall slowly, they echo my despair.
Raising my eyes, misery lies on the shelf.
The pounding in my chest never ceases, ever drumming
hopes of newness unknown, wilting my joy forever.
Creasing brow tangles the web of larger endeavor.
Cautious moments bloom again into smiles of humming.
Stalking the days of glory on sun-drenched youth,
Seas foaming, calling back to visions once held.
Last images always haunt minds gazing truth,
Praising battles fought in life alone and felled.
Robert Dodson
May 1995
