Single Print of Time
I woke up a little down yesterday.
You see, I had a dream that was pretty vivid and in it we were at a concert (probably Bruce) just me and Kathy, and she had a beer in her hand, was about 35 years old, and was standing and singing.
Just a beautiful vision, and I probably should’ve woken up happy, but I felt a little down, because those carefree days seem behind us.
Life has intervened a little, and while the days gone past sometimes feel like one long day, there is always a price to pay.
But I’m alive and I’m feeling all right, and through this summer, I’ve grown aware of the limited time that we have left to make our mark in this single print of time.
We’ve lost friends and family. We’ve battled health problems and I was a little down because in that dream I saw the beauty of the summer days and the smile in her eyes as she sang along with whoever was on stage (it was Bruce).
And I drove a long way yesterday morning to reflect on that dream, and I kept thinking about the idea that without hope and love and faith in the coming days, there isn’t anything left but pain.
And that ain’t no way to live.
Makes a man not give a damn.
So, I chased the regret of seeing our younger selves and concentrated on somehow getting the light to our faces as we move forward.
The future hasn’t been written yet, and we still have plenty of hope and love and faith to carry forward, and I’m pretty happy about what we’ve brought into the world, and allowed to swirl around out there.
During our single print of time.
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