Sorrow


​Wisdom of “The Pace”

Fills the hearts of most who race.
Measuring their stride:

With wisdom, most preside,
Over all of life’s demands;

With sobriety command,
The weary and the grand

Requirements of the Race. 
For me it is not so.

I dearly wish it were, 

Though.
For what I do is sprinting, resting,

Through the marathon of life.
The finish line.

Where are you now?
That lovely place,

Where my soul will bow.
Please break from your tethers.

Come meet me in the “Now”.
Arise and cease this music;

An errant putrid song,
That seems to be the only noise

Of my strings against the thongs.
Oh, how I strive to limit burden!

Only adding to the weight.
To offer sweetness as desert,

But filling up their plate!
The marks of feet upon the ground

Belong to errant soles, I found.
Old dust, I rose, come cover me.

Oh, “Finish Line” sublime!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s