Moving On Poem by David Taylor

Wading in shallows,
sung with little voice,
unnoticed in shifting sands;
tread quietly,
upon the wind of chance......
our feathered flights of fancy,
dance.

Behold the octopus of dreams
eight armed inkiness
to write our future
with a soft quilted pen
washed away by the infinite ocean
of life.

A tortoise with homely shell
crosses our path
on its back engraved
the long history of
its strife.

We run across the shore
and dive into the surf,
to emerge riding crested waves
to distant lands with sparkling
shores.

Where wading in shallows
we sing with little voice,
unnoticed in shifting sands;
tread quietly,
upon the wind of chance.......
and with our feathered flights of fancy,
dance.