Shards of the Past

Walking back through the shattered valley. Where child me dash in a fluttered rally. Leaving back bits of token Of the past that was written Now I walk across these bits; No more I ran in a fit. Across the pond of delight; Dried by the age of the light. No more can the pond comfort me now Of the child that lingered by the pond. These bits I picked, No more they shine but pricked. Remnants of the man I've been; The man I've yet to be. Truly its a comforting view Of what was but a distant few. Moments of the colorful life Memoirs of the wonderful light All but shards of the past they are.