James H. Smith


When the winds of time across me blow
To spin my dust to compass points beyond
I am gone, lost to the beauty the pain the laughter the love
Perhaps I will have left nothing but an echo of who I am
Ghosts surround me, their smiles crossing forever
Knowing secrets, harbored behind their shaded eyes
What have I made of my time here, this thing called life
Did I live my life in a heaven or create for myself a personal hell
I lay, I sit, I stand, I live within the sleepless nights
Only the question, the question time and again
Has what I have taken, in turn been taken from me
Did I give to life enough, to have received something in return
An unrequited love, perhaps left alone by the life I create
Others walk in love laughter and joy, so I ask, what not have I done
If I could find you and be where you are, if you could hold me by your side
Perhaps I could put the hell of my nights, the long unending days behind
A father’s blood I have taken, for each action a reaction is received
Will my Son give his blood to some father’s Son as a return
Ghostly hands tug and push me upon the waves of time
Winds of war, blood of mothers’ sons I’m shown
Men crying, men dying, no glory to be found there in the blood mixed mud
Mothers, children confused freighted, a father, a brother, a love will not return
Although unrequited my love, my life may be, upon this path I have walked
The path was the one of my choice, I do not look back but forward
Do I walk in heaven or do I walk a life in hell
Upon the path I have taken lessons of both are learned
We stand a foot on each side of a line, to view that which seems often hidden in shadow
A line that some call the veil