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Poems On / About FUTURE  12/1/2015 12:17:45 PM
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Your journey starts here it starts now
Your future is in your hands and know one shows you how
To make it, unfold, and have it turn out what you want it to be
Not anybody, not me
Talk it a step at a time
Even if your plans are stopped on a dime
Be careful, and listen, learn from your mistakes
Because one day you'll advance on the choices you make
Your future is here, your future is now
But don't worry, you'll show yourself how
Mathew Miller

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The Sculptor

Wet clay lies flat on the ground until gentle hands form a head. Then arms and feet follow. With each twist another part is molded. Eyes, mouth, nose and ears, a body stands tall. Erected from the clay.
A blank canvas lies flat on the easel until gentle hands pick up a brush. With each stroke the canvas comes to life. Flowers, cottages, and animals jump onto the page. Snow and rain beating against mountains and valley stare back. Erected from the paint.
Rocks stare formless on the banks of rivers and deserts. Gentle hands pick up a chisel and begin to form images. Tap, tap, tap and characters and shapes begin to emerge. Breathing pulses into stones. Erecting from stone.
Hardness turns to softness. Darkness turns into shining polish. Rough edges are smoothed away. The hands of the master shape the future of the thing. Sculpting beautiful silhouettes of splendor and purpose.
Nothing becomes something. Listless turns into bliss, creating master pieces. Sculpting the future. Separating the beginning from the end. What was nameless becomes named.
The unknown becomes known. Now it sits as it was planned from the beginning. The thing now has a name and it is all Grand. Formed by the sculptor with the master plan. Deciding fate in the hands of the sculptor.
Hands that shape the future.
Janice Harris

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Past, Present, Future

Life, lived; not by the, present, contained within the Now,
so thinking of a recollect - of what your mind will allow

means present becomes, neglect - and past, does future infect,

no change can be made- of what past has played,
to live in its control- decays the soul

for only in now, can a person be whole - only in now, can a body contain the soul.

thought of a future that has not yet played- a worry of a nothing, means, now, gets

no future is set - none should forget

if a present moment in now is given neglect-
a life will be stained with the inks of regret.
Edward Webb

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Models Of Future Generations

Singularly advancing life into the twenty-third century by
involving intellect with the spheres traveling around in
my mind.

Testing the formulas and inventions of a future lifetime,
taking every idea and processing it into models of future

Silencing the naysayers, finding a way around every negative
opinion, never allowing anyone to move me from my convictions.

So totally contented with every thought coming into this
existence of forbearance

Allowing the future it's time to come into the here and now.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak

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Poems On / About FUTURE