Wednesday, August 24, 2016

A Poem entitled Still Thinking

Still Thinking by Daniel Stevenson I, Like in a latter day think away my things. Time ebbs on because that is what it does. With tears that surface-coat scars that drive me more than they should, I reach for a tomorrow guaranteed In the hand of the master, But framed in the thinking, too common to yesterday’s reality. Time ebbs on ever-closer to that unsealed future, The image in the rear view mirror is fading but I lean in straining. Service and tears but even today’s events seem distant. I am without torment but sometimes wondering why my scars, drive me more than they should. Thinking through things like in days past, when my thought should simply be of one certain tomorrow… The thoughts I think may be of today. The scars I bear, some I thought forgotten, drive a present seemingly based on an old life. This new life, it is somehow more real, Eyes open, I, like Lot, live vexed, Moved to certain action, I work though I wonder. My help is eternal, my pain is temporal. One day I’ll stop thinking, but apparently not yet.

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