Who am I? What am I?
Does my spirit soar on high,
When in sleep I prostrate lie.
Does it travel fast as light,
To where the day is golden bright,
As I slumber in the night.
And on a far and distant ground,
Is a kindred spirit found?
To which I am forever bound.
Or even maybe back in time,
Another age, another clime,
Gives welcome to this soul of mine.
And do the centuries unfold,
Revealing forms of different moulds,
Resembling, yet, that which I hold.
The years to come, past years forgot,
There’s only now,
And Time is not.
Written in 1986.
Copyright Doris Darbyshire