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 will
         stop
         thinking,
         but apparently
         not yet.