SWIMMING UPSTREAM

 

Slowly, quietly, shadows cross the room

It is as dark as a tomb –

In this darkness I cannot see

It’s like this loneliness hidden in me –

In my heart and mind, I search

Like a night owl setting on her perch –

Or as the fog rises from a bog,

Alone life’s journey I jog . . .

Lifting my rose-colored glasses, I peep

And then realize that we are all like sheep!

But life keeps on passing by . . .

Then all I can do is wonder why:

Young men prophecy, and old men dream,

But why do I feel I’m swimming upstream?

 

Thomas Theophilus© June 28, 2025