a few words, drifting, light as air,
which signified an image driven fast;
a thing the future would in time reveal.
The present had no place for it to stand,
but when remembered past it could be seen,
as symbol of the inner work declared;
an angel’s touch upon the world of dreams.
These signs upon the path did gather force,
and rank as guideposts on my weary way,
to signify that there was sure a plan;
that what and how I lived would have its day.
It gave me hope in ways I’d never known,
to see the touch of purpose, written well,
upon the daily dross of life and mind;
meaning had a tale which it would tell. http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2013/05/22/prompt-158-playing-sherlock/#respond