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| PHOTO PROMPT © C.E. Ayr |
To go on a journey you have to leave a place behind.
Hark back to the station at the start of a trip. Hands held, promises made, bound by common
memories and yet you have to go.
Fly away said the bird to the chick, flap your wings hard, soar
and succeed. The eyes that watched you
grow, the hands that moulded you, are now setting you free.
You embrace that freedom.
You follow the tracks, find new paths, the tracks diverge, merge, cross
bridges and you hang on for the ride.
Yet you return. Love always
brings you back.
**
Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100
Our parents guide us, show us the way and then once we have grown they let us go. I am beginning to slowly realise how that works. In memory of my father-in-law who passed away in this week. To read the other writers this week click here.
Our parents guide us, show us the way and then once we have grown they let us go. I am beginning to slowly realise how that works. In memory of my father-in-law who passed away in this week. To read the other writers this week click here.
Dear Subroto,
ReplyDeletePoetic prose. Very nicely done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks Rochelle.
DeleteThose tracks are often fascinating. Very well written.
ReplyDeleteThank you YS.
DeleteHow true. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteThank you Sandra.
DeleteYes and that's the beauty with trains... you can get a ticket to return.
ReplyDeleteIndeed and they bring you back. Thanks for your comments Bjorn
DeleteYou tried to hide your poem in prose and you failed.
ReplyDeleteIt was there for you to find :-)
Delete