The persistence of myth

The stories of generations float through space, living on in the minds, hearts and discs of untold millions. If the world were devoid of the human race, its myths would live on still, lying dormant, until an intrepid adventurer stumbles on a memory bank - and the stories would burst forth like a raging flood, bringing the race to life once again.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

The cloud

In the crowded maze of life we walk
Intent on a singular path
Eyes to the ground
Mind fixed inside
On a personal dream
And then a shadow falls
Across the path
And looking up
We see what we have dreamed for long
The sun has cleared the clouds.
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