I thought that I would change things this week. Instead of an article I offer you a poem instead. You see, poetry gets me inspired.
I can see the bright lights of home from here.
I always did like this ridge,
Standing on the road that winds down into the town
And on to the endless horizons to the west.
Has it has been so long since I have been here?
I used to stand up here for hours and dream of the possibilities over that far horizon.
You and I would stand here and talk of what we would do.
Locked in each other’s arms,
We dreamed how we would get out,
How we would escape from this town
And leave the inhibited inhabitants behind.
We would argue over were we would go.
Fought over what adventures we would face
And laughed at the fun we knew we would have,
But as the years passed and we grew,
We also grew apart,
And in the end you went your way
And I left,
Carrying only half a heart
And broken dreams.
Now, after all these years, I am back,
I have returned from the great adventure
And the wild hunt that the world has to offer.
I know that you are still here.
I know you never left,
Never fulfilled your greatest desires.
I want to see you,
To catch up,
To see who you have become,
To find out if you are happy,
To look into your eyes again.
I have missed you,
But after what we had, that is to be expected,
And standing here doesn’t help.
Looking down on to the lights I have forgotten how small this town was,
Then again, a broad mind and horizon tends to put things into perspective.
I have stood in cities that roared with passion twenty-four hours a day,
Sailed oceans whipped with fury
And cried at the view at the top of the world.
I have seen more in my life than most men will ever forget
And though I did it alone,
I have had all the adventures we ever talked about.
Though sometimes in the dark,
When the adventure grew too much
And world grew so large it would threaten to crush me,
I would think of you,
And pretend that you were here with me
Pretend that your arms were once again around me
And prayed that one day you would find your way to me.
But I must admit,
Though I missed you, I did not miss this town,
And I was a fool to come back.
My life isn’t here,
It never was,
And I know that if walk I back in now I will never get out again.
So I will go.
Probably better not to disturb the peace.
I just hope that one day you manage to find your way from under the restrictive blanket that still covers this town.
When you do,
Look for me,
I’ll be the lonely guy standing at the top of the world.