Time made by man from beginning
Never ending like space and numbers
Unforgiving worlds of infinite
Where are we upon this line
We have drawn in the sand
A speak so small only God can see
Yet we prance about as if nothing
Before us or after will be so grand
Shouting our glory thinking
Heaven should bow before us
Tho my words speak from within
I know I too stand alongside man
Being nothing but a speck of dust
Upon this ribbon we call time
8 comments:
Humans are always so self-important
squishing mere ants beneath our feet.
I think we are both impressive
N an ant's work ambition can't be beat.
Snaggle
Yes we are
and they do
get under foot
Yes - we are a blip in time, for sure.
Lynn
infinite points
upon that line
on which we
chose to tread
to what point
will they lead
I have finally found your blog...yah me. I sure have missed your poetry.
A loon after a old mans heart
put down the knife run desk run
RITFLMAO
I thought I responded to this poem. The last line is great. I like the "speck of dust upon this ribbon we call time."
yet how great I am
so all might see
as if none walked
upon that line but me
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