The first two lines of this poem popped into my head out of the blue yesterday. Well, not totally out of the blue, since I was pondering essence and poetry. Why Essence Mapping Is Poetry.
Compared to some poems I've read, I don't think this poem is very essencey in general. I'm not even sure if I could even do essence "right", but it was fun just to try and think in those terms. Whether I wrote anything with "essence" or not, I did write, so I'm pleased. To God be the glory.
Time is an elusive thing,
Like a mist in early spring.
Dancing onward without pause,
Easily wasted without cause.
Past is a shadowed dream,
Partially retained as a flickering beam.
Remembered thoroughly by few,
Lost and drying as the dew.
Present is a battle ground,
Unsure of where in life I'm bound.
Wondering when is called retreat,
Or if the enemy shall cry defeat.
Future is a mountain high,
An ocean under midnight sky.
Uncertain questions at what will be,
Are useless as counting stars we see.
Hope is an enlightening ray,
Breeze that chases clouds away.
Breaking forth in blessed peace,
Reminding for our fears to cease.
Life is all these and more,
Hear the call upon Heaven’s Shore.
For as we stand in time to wait,
Our Lord's choices are not late.
Copyright © 2012 Ophelia M. Flowers