---- I dreamed a dream in Vietnam ----
Oh ---- what secrets have been weaved from the monastery within my mind.
I see great things of colors ---- for everyone.
Soft against the sky.
Hallways of eternities have broken nights.
To advance to the very gates of hell.
I have been to the prison door too many times.
Miracle and mystery of truth where will i find you.
How great is the heart ----
when it gives all that it possess in a riot of emotions.
When the beast rages ----
between a blizzard of tears and the rhythm of my soul screaming.
When one crushes love to ride the pain of ecstasy/
The bloodstain from my hands ---- cannot be washed away.
My eyes are bleeding/
Kneeling ---- my tears fall naked beneath my essence.
In my mind are the legions ---- i have seen left behind.
Let this season in hell disappear ---- if only for a moment in time.
'' This moment in time ''
Let me forget the fire-storm of nightmares.
Touch my hand ---- from another time and place i forgot.
Dance with me.
Hug me in the silence of your reverence.
Rick Ryckman
rage1@axs.net
Comment - With tears in my soul--- In remembrance for my Uncle Larry Ventola
My heroes danced with life
In life there are certain moments that pierces us all.
When we hear the sound of taps or bagpipes play ----
and tears fall silently.
As they sound the beat slowly.
The shadows wait in their death march.
Red - Black - Brown - Yellow - White
The colors of our flag will not be shattered.
For those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.
Also for those that have put themselves in harms way.
In times of peril they never counted the cost.
In that one moment in time
These are the heroes of our lifetime.
Who have been through the fire-storms?
We can only imagine in our minds.
Leaving others breathless ----
because of the character in their hearts.
Now in the autumn of my life ----
as my memories are falling in, one by one.
Fond feelings of reminiscing play in my mind.
In the vivid splendor of my thoughts ----
that will not be quiet.
You parade across my mind tall and proud.
Like rows of white crosses that are standing mute.
Memories bound for tarnished books of old.
When colored pictures diminish their luster,
and turn to black and white.
Lying to rest in some scrapbook ----
like fallen soldiers of forgotten times.
In the center of my heart ---- you are my heroes.
Unknowingly ---- your lives are a tapestry of gold.
There are no words i can find to express my gratitude.
For the freedom i revel in.
Let me speak from the very essence of my soul.
May i have this spirit dance?
Thank you
Rick Ryckman
rage1@axes.net