Reaching Out

Reaching out across the strands of time
We seek the silvery threads of family
A memory here, a memory there,
Whispers on the wind, we grasp at these,
Slipping, slipping, slipping,
Down through the sands of time,
Here and there we catch a silvery thread,
A glimpse here, a glimpse there of some family member.

What were their dreams, their aspirations?
How has the world changed since "their time"?
What we would have of theirs?
O' to have a glimpse of their faces, to hear just once more the sound of
their voices.
Lonely are we, lost without family.
Slipping, slipping, slipping,
Down through the sands of time.
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- Tim Stowell, 31 Oct 2006