Broken signs

Is this the way to the future,
Or has imagination entered my dreams.

The slightest intervention by god is desired,
On this road of life acquired.
This seems to be the way out,
The direction which was taken.

The haze clears in my mind and
These broken signs reappear at every crossing.
The pictures show the paths travelled
In a possible past, forwarded, rewinded
And paused for memory lost.

These broken signs are
From centuries of gusts,
Weathered by the rain and storms.
It was a time when life existed,

Now only my spirit wanders
In infinite space.