By Andrew R. Duckworth
Hearing pieces
Of time get reassembled
Like thunder echoing overhead,
A created pathway through past
Steps leading on to the present.
Portions of the path lit,
Some forever shrouded in darkness,
Only to be revealed
By God’s holy light.
It’s a path traveled before,
Never to be traveled again-
But a journey engraved in stone,
Those words wearing away with time
And erosion.
Is the path the same
As my feet once traveled?
Or have the pieces been misplaced?
Time relived and time reborn.
Poetry of Andrew Ryan Duckworth 