I am more than I was before
More than created by stuff that I have,
More than illusion of good and of bad.
More than a miniscule moment ago,
More than my thoughts lined up in a row.
The future holds promise of fortune and fame,
It comes and it goes and seems all the same.
It's not here yet, so all I can do,
Is wait it's arrival, wait and be blue.
The stoplight brings pleasure, but I don't know how,
There seems no ailment, as long as it's now.
This creation continues, it builds then it burns,
The making of ashes spins the world one more turn.
Creating my now one thought at a time,
Not through my memories that may seem sublime.
Though memories seem
happy, there I can't stay,
The pain from the past comes to get in the way.
Moments don't stand, still like a stone,
From future to past they fly through my bones.
In these moments we have yet to see,
We send our thoughts searching, for what we will be.
And within these infinite moments that pass,
Comes endless future like molding hot glass.
Our thoughts heat the furnace, forming the mold,
What form will I take before I grow old?
Pain is the fire, creating the glass,
Now is the mold, bringing truths to pass.
If our thoughts ring forth each moment the same,
Our future and present unchanged will remain.
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