"We walked the path in dreary light"
We walked the path in dreary light,
the soft earth hugging our feet.
A hand to hold, a look so bold,
And all alone out of sight.
As time went on from that day,
We grew and loved and taught.
Time gave what it had, but to our dismay,
All we had was ill wrought.
Back again, our bench still there,
But you a distant dream.
Memories float through summer air
Remembering what we once seemed.
As I sit our old trees grow still
And yet again that sun falls dim.
As hard as your companionship I will,
My only companions are earth’s woody limbs.
We walked the path in dreary light,
And dreary light stayed there,
The waters sing, the wind still clings,
But all alone and out of sight.
----As I walked around Audubon park, memories came back to me of all the times I had been in that park. I remembered running, picnics, late afternoon parties with friends and one question came to mind; When was the last time had I been in Audubon? It may be a bit personal, but the last time I was there was with a old romantic interest a very long time ago. So as I scribbled down some thoughts, all I could think about was how the world had changed so much around me and yet Audubon was still the same. I hadn't visited the park for a very long time and so much had changed. My expectations, my direction, my life. Yet Audubon remained exactly how I left it. It made me feel appreciative, awed and sad.
It was sad to know that we are ever changing, ever in this state of growth. It was sad to know that we will never be the same as we were a year ago, a week ago or even a day ago. Nothing will be the same. Amongst all the past dwelling and the reminiscing the park was beautiful (despite the deep humidity after the rain). It made me happy to know that I could come back there and trust it would be waiting.
As Wordsworth said, "Those walks, well worthy to be prized and loved,/ Regretted! that word too was one my tongue,/But they were richly laden with all good,/ And cannot be remembered but with thanks/ And gratitude, and perfect joy of heart;/Those walks, in all their freshness, now cam back,/ Like a returning Spring...If ever happiness hath lodged with man,/That day consummate happiness was mine,/ Wide-spreading, steady, calm, contemplative" ("Book Fourth" line 131-141).
I know how you feel. Re-visiting the park has always had a strange affect on me; a sort of "The Giving Tree" thing (have you read that book?) But rest assured, as we are ever-growing, so is everything in the park. Nothing will be the same as it was yesterday, and that is good. If you stayed back in the time which you long for in your poem, or if I could be back in the bliss which I felt in that park and unknowingly destroyed, than the opportunities we have now (unknown, yes, but there) would be impossible. Well, this is more of a reflection than an inspirational paragraph. I hope it isn't coming off as that, as I rarely re-read what I have written. As a true Romantic, I feel I have been "injected with regrets from/Birth" (<--me), and always dwell and reflect on my deepest concerns and the beauty of the past. I suppose as the present rolls on, more 'past's will be created for me to long for and lament over. Somehow, that is comforting.
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