The Beauty of the Journey

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In the canyons of our deepest memories, there are always glimpses

of who we once were, a sandbox, or a bicycle, a stream

where we went fishing, and Dad no longer carried us.

We eventually found our own way, the path

was not one but many, we searched

and found not who we are

but the beauty

of the journey.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

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15 thoughts on “The Beauty of the Journey

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