Category: Poetry

Computers Surround Me

Computers surround me here in my head,

I can’t keep this up anymore.

I want to go home and climb into bed,

What am I doing this for?

 

Is there a reason beyond my own will

For me to keep going like this?

For days to go by with life sitting still;

Where is the joy that I miss?

 

Forward they tell us, we cogs in the wheel,

So moment by moment we grind.

So slowly each day we can’t really feel

When our souls have left us behind.

 

Serious thoughts and wrinkled up faces

Are all that I see when I dare.

Are we just here to fill these blank spaces?

Why do I bother to care?

 

Albiet these thoughts are not really present;

Creeping below out of reach.

Creeping my conscience away from the question:

“Who was I fashioned to be?”

 

07.03.19

Seasons

The heat is here and men work hard to live.

They hope the year will quickly have an end,

And spring will come with rain and joy to give,

But now all life feels cursed and won’t relent.

 

In fall the life that dies and leaves this earth

Is gone for good till spring with joy returns.

The year will end as sadness turns to mirth,

But now the grass is gone and flower burns.

 

In dark the death is done, and trees are bare.

All life has left and cold has come to stay.

It seems that spring will ne’er again be here,

And life will fail before the new spring day.

 

The Spring has come and life returns at last!

The year is new and death is now the past.

 

04.19.12

True Spring

In Spring there is new life that is released;

It roars and flows and down the stream it runs.

Its breath has come and dreaded death has ceased,

Now turn and look the dawn is quickly come.

 

The lion wakes and roars upon the chase,

The world is clean and flowers now are grown,

The King of Kings is in his rightful place,

The quest is done – the ring is now o’er thrown.

 

But life is short and quickly ending is,

As withered fading grass at summer’s end.

The crawling creature, twisted serpent, lives

To see the King in bloodless body spent.

 

And yet in death is hope, though spring be iced,

For life returns upon the spring of Christ.

 

04.12.12