Contemplation At Eden’s End

This tiny earth

you should know

where you are

is bit by the snow.


The land is so rife,

stiffled not nice.

There’s bitter ice

cutting as if a knife.


So sayeth God

our hearts are odd.

We take breaths

often to breathe smog.


Since original sin,

what a way to begin,

a starting clock

telling time to end.


Sun will collapse

ruined and cold

tis told in a land

that grows old.


Live to pacify

on earth where we die.

So live every day

until the end of time.


Prophets foretold

the tale that’s told.

The earth revolves

so you will know.


No escaping pain

coming many ways.

The Reaper sways

to the end of days.


I know the way

the sky can be a bore.

The sun burns

until it will no more.


Until then my friends

waterfalls will fall.

Seas will rise and

away the shores draw.


Until the shore

is there no more.

You might ask

what’s it all for?


It’s for the travel

along the brief beach.

Just to see how

our vision does reach.


I pray each day

will show revelations

of the way a mind

reaches for salvation.



Categories: Choices, Poetry

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