The wending paths of life are paved with far distances,
Slipping through fingers of time, in memory´s instances,
Between conception & birth, when flung from life´s womb,
From the winding road of childhood, till darkness of tomb.
Clinging to intimacy, with heart´s desperate sad grasping,
Calling back lost closeness, with voices, sorry & grasping,
The distance between war & peace, the hate & the love,
Is closer by far, than earth from the stars, way up above.
The “Once Upon A Time”, of all our loved ones now gone,
Separated by night, from places where sun had once shone,
Across the distant great oceans & all the river´s dry beds,
I hear the echoing voices, of the distant & deep buried dead.