Assuming today’s to be the last,
yesterdays are only the past.
Tomorrow’s come to fast.
Accepting every day’s the same,
nights pass, the day’s to blame.
Tomorrows come as yesterday came.
Acknowledging all’s new,
yet lacking yesterday’s clue
Tomorrow’s risen oft black and blue.
Anticipating each day’s the first,
yesterday’s filled quenching thirsts.
Tomorrows pass endlessly submersed.
Assuring each day’s bright,
yesterday’s end with good night.
Tomorrow simply see the light.
There’s a change in the air,
its felt everywhere.
Will it be warmth or an icy blow?
Outside’s to venture to ever know.
The future nears,
with future fears.
The past’s a guide,
or where to hide.
Scrambled thoughts shaped in rhyme,
shadows mask the light of time.
Moments killed, perspective’s born,
clearly focused or forever torn.
Doors lock, window’s seen,
vistas vary with a lean.
Steps taken never still,
ups and downs, want and will.
At a point all paths meet,
minds move not feet.
Hearts feel, hands express,
lips promise; life’s a guess.
Full moon glistens on a rippled sea.
Reflections dance ever-changing and free.
A path’s illuminated for us to follow.
Horizons await our tomorrow.
Hidden in Plain Sight
A trusting person,
most always seen trustworthy.
No trust, see themselves.
Time’s always trying.
But better to try and fail,
unless failure’s known.
Among the obtuse,
some angles draw focal points.
Perspective’s the Point
love and share to forever grow,
rebirth’s far too slow.
Ills to Frills
Hate kills and love thrills.
Words will chill with fiery quills.
Never still pays bills.
Hatred in the heart
cedes peace to heat in the head,
when one dies, two dead.
Ocean breezes howl, the seagulls soar.
Frigid waves crash on the rocky shore.
Yet the morning mist rises above it all.
And foggy eyes see everything’s small.
Life’s perspective is
our palette to draw from when
all points lead away