the contented spirit

this shadow of a withered ghost
drifts in and out of consciousness
drawing its slow and shallow breath
from sweet but fading memories

images of one who truly was
if for preciously brief moments
someone, something, seen as special
through the eyes of promising youth

time and tired distance lengthens
as the bonds upon the soul slip
but here, amidst it all, is a sight
like looking down upon the earth

strange to see the order of it
that rough outline of the maze
sensing every twist and turn
every step and weekend lost

it must seem a curse to some
those fearful, wistful, empty hearts
tracing their few and simple paths
uncertain still where it all ends

but what a beauty is the life well lived
its stunning mosaic wipes away
the loss, regret, and ends of being
to reveal the long desired path toward home

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