Words by Soberflight

poetry and musings

Month: May, 2014

Unopened Gifts




When the door is finally open
And God ushers me inside
Will I leave things unfinished,
Or things I wished to hide?

Will I cry “I’m not done yet!
Please let me have more time!
I need to learn a language
Or write another rhyme!

I never did that painting,
I never wrote that song,
That story isn’t done yet,
It took me far too long!”

Will God just shake his head
And say, “I opened every door,
I sent you all the teachers
That you had asked Me for.

It’s time for you to come home,
I’m no longer going to wait.
You had a life to do things,
Why’d you start so late?”

And I would have no answer.
I’d hang my head and cry
Because I didn’t use the gifts,
I didn’t even try.


Just a little bee in Spring,

Doing his own busy thing,

Spreading pollen sans a grumble,

Happy, busy, little bumble.


All day long he flies and flits,

Seeming like he never sits.

Such a helpful little fellow

In his suit of black and yellow.


I could watch him all day long

As he hums his merry song,

I just sit here, like a jerk,

Watching  him do all the work.



Tonight, outside
The moon soared high,
Aloof and cold,
Icy white in pitch black sky;

Impassive, staring
Upon earth’s tableau,
It took no notice
Of humanity below.

What has it seen
In billions of years?
From nothing to trillions,
Laughter and tears.

After we’re gone
It’ll still be there,
Our lives unnoticed.
It still won’t care.