Along the Way

Rain falls quietly; I don’t know where the time has gone.
I missed the roses somewhere along the way.
I have even forgotten where the dandelions grew.
Perhaps somebody picked them and made a bouquet to place by my gravestone.
I came so close to death today, and somebody
Placed a stone for me, beneath an old oak tree.
I know I was never promised a Garden of Eden, and
Somewhere along the way,
Some thoughts of mine were whisked away,
Stolen within a windstorm
Drowned within a deluge of rain, and I realize that
Somewhere in my life, there was something that was missing;
Something was taken from inside of me, and
Now that the rain is subsiding
The wind is dying down, and the thunder has silenced.
I can now hear the rustling of leaves and
The singing of the mockingbird, but
Somewhere along the way I missed the roses, and
By my stone lies none but a dandelion bouquet.
I once believed I had a calling, I heard a voice, and
A gust of wind blew it all away, though
Dandelion thistles still mingle in the sultry air;
Where dandelion seeds were planted
I had always expected roses to grow, though
That calling was snatched away and
The voice was silenced.
I later awakened only to see
That I am none but human, and that
I missed those roses somewhere along the way.
Somebody picked them, every single one,
Leaving none but dandelion seeds
To blow in the late spring breeze
To carry all my hopes and dreams to another world-
One that I shall never see.
I missed my calling, one that will never come or never came-
Roses will never grow from dandelion seeds-that, everybody knows, and
I know I was never promised a Garden of Eden:
All my hopes were shattered, and
Like rose petals blown away in the wind
I missed my calling somewhere along the way,
But I can still hear the mockingbird…

Claudia Krizay (schizoclaud)