In perfect sight I see what’s come to pass.
You look at what has become of me proud.
If only there was a route through time, fast.
It’s passing waits for no discussion now,
Of its illusory being. Refrains,
From malicious temptation? Indifferent.
We’ll forge on alone beside mans best bane.
Though a companion of ours, unpleasant.
In fear or pride we think it’s forgotten?
Who would remind death of our numbered days?
And at the door of eternity, one,
Perhaps would ask what’s this last toll to pay?
There’s nowhere else to go but through the door.
Here time won’t follow, you’re alone. Go forth.
Posted in Life and death, Sonnets
Tagged bane, companion, death, door, eternity, fear, follow, poem, poetry, pride, sonnet, time, toll
Shattered dreams in streams of light
Falling from dying stars in their delight.
One end of the universe fades away forever
And at its center, false hope while drifting into the never.
The nevermore befooled by those
Who into the cosmos would suppose,
Beyond an illusory dreaming and repose,
That one can find self in this shattered light?
Shattered sight and blinding fright
Are chosen not for favor bought
Falsly from an unforgiving reaper
Who take those sooner who wish for fewer for others and name the nameless night.
Abyss unto abyss and beneath this on your cheek a kiss,
For I’ll knowingly befoul the nihilism in my soul
For one hour of giving you my whole
Heart. Then while the universe around us dances into dying,
Hold me close and you I’ll hold closer flying,
Into that endless night.
Then there’s no reason that we fail to be
When eternity shall stand witness before us while we forever see.
Posted in Personal
Tagged cosmos, dance, death, dream, eternity, hope, life, love, nihilism, poetry, shattered, star, universe, witness
He once sat in silence
Alone with his own thoughts.
He once sat in darkness
To feel what it had brought.
He once sat in rainfall
To remember what it taught.
And then he sat in daylight
To think on all he’s not.
The silence, the rainfall,
The darkness, the daylight.
How he sat in solitude,
How he sat in the bright.
He cursed the silence for not speaking
He cursed the day for not being night.
He cursed the rain for water,
He cursed the dark for not giving light.
So why did he sit and think and curse?
What did he find in his enemies purse?
He had hoped to find the answer
He knew to be true, false.
That all is but vanity, and sorrow
With knowledge there’s no knowing.
The wisdom he was to borrow,
Gave him but this to keep:
There is no life but death,
There is no birth but dust.
There is no treasure here
That will not eventually rust.
We rise from the ashes
Only to return and sleep
So we must find one
Who, from ashes our souls can keep.
I don’t know
When I’m coming home.
There’s something I feel
Inside my bones.
Now I must follow.
Now I must go.
Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.
Is not the whole world
Destined for rust?
For moths they eat,
And the flames combust,
So I’ll do what I can
And love who I trust.
Before the fire,
Takes us all,
To spend all time
With He who’s paid the price.
Posted in Time
Tagged eternity, life, poetry
Unto the end
My sweet wife and I,
Sharing our life,
As time passes by.
Every minute here,
Is a second well spent,
And every word said,
It’s love that is meant.
Every day with you,
I fervently wish for another.
Till death do we part?
No, eternity is much longer.
Posted in Love
Tagged eternity, love, poetry
What will today bring?
I know not, let us sing,
Of nights before when we survived,
When it was death that we had bribed.
The only thing I know for certain,
Is that the reaper will pull the curtain.
Death will reclaim his prize,
Though I do not believe his lies.
All powerful he is not.
His leash is held by one who’s got,
The keys to my heavenly home
And the deed to my soul.
I do not know what tomorrow will bring but death.
So I’ll live for today, making precious what is left.
Over the course of my life I’ve had a few near-death experiences. The most notable of which was in august 2008 . My job had taken me to Kalispell, MT for some overnight work for seven days, when on the last day after getting off of work at 7A.M. I decided that I would hit the road right away and try to make it home as quickly as possible, I lived in Missoula at the time. As I was driving, about twenty minutes south, I started dozing when I looked down to check my ipod and when I looked up I had drifted into the opposite lane and there was one of those flat-faced semi trucks headed straight for me.This happened around a blind corner so neither the truck driver or myself could see the other coming. I had just enough time to swerve enough to make it not be a head-on collision, the semi hit my car just three inches behind the driver side door.
I was literally three inches away from death that day. Thankfully so, God decided it was not my time to die and spared me.
I was knocked unconscious by the air bags and when I woke up there was my friend Brent, who was working on the same job and was driving behind me, called the ambulance, and some cars whose drivers had stopped to see if I was all right. I stood up and walked away from the wreckage. No broken bones. No serious injuries. After an ambulance took me to a hospital in Kalispell for an overnight stay, I was sent home with bruised ribs, and a bruised lung, that’s all. It could have been so much worse and I should have died, but I was spared thank God.
This poem is about how we all die some day, we are given a finite number of days, and we should make the most of those days. Each one. Tomorrow you could die of a heart attack, or get into a car wreck you don’t walk out of. We all die, It’s going to happen. What we should be worrying about isn’t where, when, or how it will happen, but are we making the most of the time given to us? Are we living everyday with eternity in mind?
“And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?” Matthew 6:27
Once again, the story to me is told.
I sit, I listen, I patiently wait.
Kittens and puppies, natures green and gold.
I pay attention, but the hour’s late.
Slipping off into my own peaceful dreams,
Dreaming of all youth, mortality, and
Of her youngest, her golden, and her green.
Of how life is so fleeting from fates hand.
So many hold what doesn’t matter now.
Beauty is fleeting, wealth will fade to dust.
Still listening to what nature says now.
Who made her? He says all things become rust.
This life is but youth for eternity.
Time. We’ve plenty to spend accordingly.