Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.3
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Drink of Today
Today will never peek though this portal again
As the Great artist paints the tips of the trees and the unremarkable clouds
a newly created and blended shade of rose
One that has never been seen by my eyes.
My brew of savoury rich hazelnut inspiration
Quietly savoured, slowly, and intentionally sipped 
I drink in this new day like it is my last drink before a dry, dessert trek
For this day will never be again!
The purposes of this day must unfold as they will
My plans hopefully, are the plans moulded by the potter
The same Great artist that painted the clouds and treetops
also, painted a lovely blanket of white on the rungs of my deck
And the blades of grass that are
intermingled with the invading war of creeping Charlie being waged through my window
They both seem equal when covered by this shivering white paint
The flowers which refused to give in 
are now learning they must submit 
to this cold white covering of their radiant glory.
These thoughts will never come again.
These words never quite the same.
Reflections are like the beautiful waves on the beach
They come in, creating new impressions in the sand
But then go out again in a certain uniqueness only to this day.
There will never be a wind that blows in exactly this way again
The crumpling leaves that gently fall to the ground 
In colours of red and golden hues will fall where they may
Much like our carefully chosen words
Or like the ones that are sometimes sprayed haphazardly out 
Like an unexpected sneeze scattered to interesting places
Control of this day is only an illusion!
We set out with grand and intentional footsteps
Sometimes our steps are ordered to a different trail though the woods
and if you had not been redirected, 
there would be that great treasure you would have missed
or important lesson not learned!
Today is open for the taking!
Hang on to it in this moment, ponder, evaluate, criticize, experience, treasure
Hate it if you must…shake your fists at it, in rage
It is yours…  so, drink it carefully and ever so slowly
Do not wish it away…
For tomorrow it will be no more
The iron door closed and locked 
never again will it be yours.

Grace Daub  
November 5, 2021
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required