upon a lonesome road

I passed a familiar stranger

upon a lonesome road.

He slipped past my side; his load

was heavy, growing fuller with each step.

His back was bowed down with the weight

of thoughts.

He wore a robe of the grey in a storm-

full of chaos and power

yet broken and worn.

I barely noticed his face as he passed,

he left without a whispered word;

without even a glance cast.

I turned to converse,

wishing to listen to the stories I’ve heard

times and times before.

I wished to see his bundle unfold

revealing memories and stories-

wished to hear my life retold

But as I turned he was gone,

already years behind.

I run towards him,

my feet flying with an inhuman speed,

yet never growing closer.

Never near enough.

His bent figure grows smaller with each step.

I grow farther away as I draw near.

Just once I wish to touch his face

and thank him for the good times

and the bad.

For my legs are stronger now

after climbing the hills in the road.

I run faster.

Come back!

Come back, my heart cries.

But no.

Only an empty echo

returns to my longing self.

My heart pounds and I've had enough.

I’m running after the Past

and I cannot catch up