Our minds can wander farther than our feet.
To read the lives of those whose lives are o’er
Is to set feet upon another shore.
Sometimes the parallels are very clear,
And other times we’re drawn to stretch our sight.
We see the ebb and fall of lives long past
Their loves, their ills, short lives, long lives, now still.
We wander through these vaults of memory
Amazed at times at what our eyes can see.
Long-forgotten words are heard once more.
Names once lost in the mist rise up again.
