Into the Past

Poem... Into the Past

Inward I breathe
That vision I see
Of possiblities ahead
Of what can be
Of food we plant
To grow in Sun
And bring inside
When growings done
Of walks on dusty roads
Beside a friend
Of cutting firewood
For winter's begin
Of grandma's biscuits
Rising in the pan
Soon in the oven
And soon in my hand
When things become simple
Obvious to see
Our journey to the future
Into the past will be