"The Key"

I was looking through the archives of my writings of my younger years and stumbled across a prose of mine. I wrote this in the late 1960's as I was listening to Bob Dylan. I remember the chaos of our society in those days. We are still in war today. In fact, there is more suffering in today's world than in yesterday's world.

I look around and see people on the corner of the freeways in Austin asking for money. I look at people who were once middle class now struggling to survive because they lost their job in their profession to outsourcing of jobs to other countries.

Some of our society does not realize the extent of their brother and sisters who are homeless or of the soldeirs that come back from the war without a family to rely upon for living as they struggle from day to day.

I read the prose and visualized me sitting at my ole' Corona typewriter typing key by keystroke and listening to Bob Dylan. My room was blue and orange with pictures of clowns hanging on each of the walls.
Have our lives changed? Yes, we are in the computer age and I thank God. I used to pray for something other than the ole' typewriter.

I did not pray for more war nor for people to struggle as the middle class dwindles more everyday and so many people live on the fringes of society and barely escape falling off the edge.

I pray for peace, love and understanding between culturals and the end of war.

Once there was a dream.
Among the songs of life's
deep journey
I by chance picked a shiny key.
A little further on as I strolled
on by time,
There stood a gate that was
left behind.
I looked forward struggling
with what was left to see,
But time just kept on
passing by me.
I stepped back; one, two, three.....
I looked for my key.
Where? Now where could it be?
Was it there hanging on the tree?
Yes there it appeared to shine
bright.
To climb was periolous and long,
But time was rushing on.
The life's songs were being played,
Just as my falls were being paid,
But, through many scars from
many a fall,
I held the key sitting bright and
tall.
I climbed down, down, down.
The key dropped, I fell
to the ground.
I stood there searching
everyday
For the key which stood
in my way.
Then there it was in my
hand,
held high to see.
The light shone forth
upon the
gate that stood before me.....

Composed and written by Vicki Trusselli