Tomorrow

Tomorrow

The fingers of my dieing hand are rooted deep in soil and sand.

So is it sin to reach too far, a sin to try to touch a star?

Am I tree bound to the Earth? The only purpose of my birth,

To stand beneath the promise sky, and never even try to fly?

Sol slides silent overhead, yet it calls me from my bed.

How dare I sleep my life away, and spit upon the gift of day!

Today is born to burn and die, but tomorrow dares to question why.

From my bed I rise and roll, and give wing to mind and soul. 

Yes, I was born upon a speck, the earth a sparkling burning fleck;

A snowflake born to melt away, but my soul was born to stay,

Upon a higher sweeter plane, not consumed with carnal gain,

To chaff against the temporal foil, my life a spring bound to uncoil.

The beauty of the earth and sky, far greater truths gently belie,

I push the air and pass right through, for there’s another world there too,

A promise whispered in the womb, “Life is not a cradle tomb”.

The box I bear and that bears me, is not all the world to see.

Upon these truths I do embark, and fan to flame the slightest spark,

Enlightened by the burning plea, I push past life’s shallow reverie,

And walk toward the setting sun, and know my life has just begun,

And as I crest that Holy hill, I stand amazed at all that’s real.

When life’s shore is washed away, only polished diamonds stay,

To shine and sparkle in the light, a testament against the night,

Eternal joy and purpose found, we are stars born from the ground

The fruit of wisdom joy and love, that only comes from him above.