Time will always play its chords.
People say to look towards
The future with its dazzling light
And leave the past slip into night.

This sounds like useful counsel but
I'm yet to feel the future's foot
On my back, unlike the past
With its director, crew and cast.

The past defines the present more
Than future days. What came before
Weighs heavy on my mind each day.
The future's light is dull and grey.

Yesterday I climbed a tree
And there I found a golden key.
When I descended to the ground
I searched the land until I found

The glimmer of a golden lock,
A door of oak, a wall of rock.
I took a narrow, twisting path.
It led me through a forest that

Became so dark it seemed like night,
And then I saw the lock's gold light.
The golden key had found its home.
Inside, a room beneath a dome

Was lit by dancing candlelight.
I fail to feign or plan delight,
But yesterday I did my best
To show delight and look impressed

With the sight of this cold room
Where only deep despair could bloom.
A bearded man began to speak.
He made the place seem much less bleak.

His words brought warmth to fight the cold.
I felt delight at what he told.
He gave me fundamental truths
That felt a lot like weightless boots

Which I could use to walk through life
And take a path through fear and strife,
And never stumble or look back
And never feel the slightest lack

Of truth or meaning in my days.
His words were like an inner blaze.
I left there with a lighter mind,
Dazed and dazzled by this find.

I left the woods, and night was near.
I'd never felt as far from fear.
In my mind I saw the door
And stepped inside the room once more.

I saw the old man's friendly grin
As he began to speak again.
But then I had my sudden fall.
The only words I could recall

Were 'ice cream van'. I felt bereft.
This was all that I had left
Of the fundamental truth.
I'd left behind the priceless loot.

That little piece had little use.
Mental screws might well come loose
If I thought too much about
The lost words from the old man's mouth.

I'd fallen from a pedestal
And hit the ground. My head is still
Spinning from my rise and fall.
I've been served like a tennis ball.

Today I woke and lay in bed.
I searched the room inside my head.
I said out loud the words I'd found.
"Ice cream van." I loved the sound.

I thought about it for an hour.
It bloomed into a mental flower,
A tiny inner candle lit,
So maybe there's some truth in it.