Pen Moves
Seems like a decade
When it has only been
three years.
The old me fades
and falsifies
The toddler me cries
still learning to accept
words I trip over.
Everyday I'm amazed
how small things
become large
Did space expand from
a single pinpointed origin?
Was there light
then came night?
Miss the days I could
articulate my speculations,
recite elation and didn't
stumble from jubilation
What if God's pen was just
the introduction of one black dot
on white space
and He's still in hesitation
envisioning
a word He is thinking
And that spot
became space
and the sporadic stars
trap inside that expanding black ink
are trace elements revealing
how long God has been
thinking before speaking?
And the contact of ink
on paper became
the existence of living.
Tomorrow I turn three
Veterans day has become
the perfect opportunity
to reflect
knowing
free stuff doesn't mean much
if you cannot speak
the morning after.
Much of my life has been
focused on tomorrow's affairs
so I had to
capitalized on today
Show you
the tip of my thinking
because my tongue
be tripping
But still able to birth
a word or two
Copyright © Ts Lewis | Year Posted 2018
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