Still They Ride

What if I shared with you
those memories that return always
the ones that make up my life
with perminant presence
forever teaching me
a light to remind me
bringing rain and cloud to my eyes
bringing laughter and loss to my heart
bringing a prayer in my spirit for those involved?

How many times have we gone down those old roads
alone, remembering?

How many times did we know beforehand
that we would one day recall in isolation
that event which lasted but a moment?

What would we have without them?
Who would we be?
How would we shape our steps
into infinity?

Though my Father has become old
He is still there in this mind
as the young man who raised me.

Though my Mother has become old
She is still there in this mind
as the beautiful young woman who cared for me.

Listen to the storm
hear the beat of the wind
how it calls us to remember.

Listen to the song
hear the melody of the words
how it calls us to remember.

Does anyone know that my very first fan
died very young
many years ago?

I still hear his words of praise
at how I played guitar
and how he bought all my old gear
to be as I was.

How glad I was to privately show respect at his funeral.
I was your fan too Kevin.

All that dies
does so only within us
if we allow it

All that is forgotten
is forgotten only within us
if we allow it

All that was in our lives
was for us
the good, the bad
it is our life

All that was in our heart
is still for us
the good the bad
it is our character

Does anyone know
I played every role I could
in this life?

That I sought after myself
through your reflections before me?
Or that I took your character to be sacred
and wore it myself when I could
to see if it fit also with me?

I was the empty vessel
you did fill
and I was the unwritten book
you did scribble within
and I was the uncharted territory
you draw the map of your life upon.

Does anyone know that for a time
I was as a man amongst men
only because I saw all men as my brothers?

Does anyone know that many times
I fell into the darkness of hell
only because I was not seen myself?

These things I knew of you, and saw of you
also.

Of the gifts God gave to me
I cannot share in human words.

Of the joy God gave to me
They all involved the company of others.

Of the peace God gave to me
It always involved the love of a woman.

Of the hope God gave to me
was that one day I could get something right.

Of the foundation God gave to me
was my Father and Mother, Brother and Sister
to guide my steps with example and experience.

Nothin is the same as it was
Nor am I, as I had become myself
to stand today with the woman of my heart
who vexed me in dreams all the days of my life before
who I somehow had known before I knew her
For whom all that was before did transpire
that I could one day walk with her as a Decent Man.

Of this character I was not
but for all whom had graced my life previously.
They who shared their wisdom
their hurts, their worries, their fears, their failures,
their triumps, their greatness, their humility, their spirit
all are they my teachers.

Still They Ride
It is as I see always
to remember how great they are
and how my past had blessed me for this day

Ryan o0o

Written while listening to “Still They Ride” by Journey on the album “Escape”

I have almost always written while listening to music. It feels just that I should pay homage to the music behind the poetry. From here on out all Poems posted on the website will include this information if applicable. This first one shared the title of the song as well.