I cherish the thankful sorrow

poetry is a gift breathed
the whispers of Providence
and I fail miserably in the interpretation

If only what stirs in my heart would reach my pen
I would die of wonder
but I’m only a tinned echo, desperately listening

 

 

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© October 20, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

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and time will hold no sway

history dangles upon its pendulum
it swings its weight from one extreme to the other
and its divisions appear manifest

if you dare strike out your hand to keep its hour,
it will be struck and gone

if you swing with it,
you will always be subject to the momentum
if you stand for the moment,
you will be hypnotized in the moment

then by what measure will one move?

let Truth set your hand
toll your hour
and the weight of time
will hold no sway

 

 

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© October 19, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn