Each Passing Year

Vincent MooreBrings with it wonderment,I reflect back on my past and how I could have changed the direction my life took. Would it have mattered anyways? The universal decree doesn’t lie.

It is said by someone much wiser than me that each hair on my head is accounted for, each scar; every cry and tear shed a lesson taught.

Yet to lose something of much importance can change the course of ones life, your makeup forever altered, what was once a happy face, now a tragic one. Oh how bitter the taste left by altered states, thorns pricking me deeply, the wounds never healing quickly, blood and agonizing wasting time.

My stairway to Heaven
awaits me, yet the exit sign near me flashing Red, leads me further into Hell. The bag piper blows Oh Danny Boy as dawn approaches, leaving me the choice of two paths to take, changing the road I’m on through the whispering wind to Heaven’s gate or down below with the howling thunder and gnashing of teeth?

There before my very eyes, a flashing light, the mist parts, a hand extended to mine, come take it, let me lead you to your destiny dear poet. A gift is awaiting you, the years spent in agony have not been in vain, painful yes, but lessons taught and the student listened and absorbed his Mentors words. Your reward is beyond this world, the other side opens up to you, the thin curtain parts revealing a glimpse into eternity and your journey awaits you.

Then let me follow the piper’s tune and be forever changed as I walk up the stairway to Heaven’s door.

Vincent Moore, December 2014


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