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what to count
by Charlie Morgancounting the ripples in my windward pool,
i lose the number i was just on;
decide i'll now count seconds that one ripple
will take to get to the other end.
fruitless in my counting; i am convinced there
is something more important to keep up with;
somewhere Jesus is counting a baby's breaths;
he's not lost count of sparrows or hairs, so
i am safe with his counting anything.
i look back upon my life and see furrows
of tilled worth, days spent loving, caring.
burn the yokes, present the oxen as a gift.
while i wonder, He is drawing in the sand;
a circle: arrows pointing to us all;
whomever it is that's free of anger, of guilt,
of hate; they can toss the first stone.
that is a good starting point. the first stone. 06/27/2010 Posted on 06/27/2010
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 06/27/10 at 07:38 PM I fear you have a long count my friend as I see the first stone thrown so many times it has broken into an infinity of small pieces right down to the smallest piece of atom. We start by throwning at the poor alarm clock as of each Monday morn and don't stop till late into Sunday night usually ending with nightly news. But still a worthy cause and a good write. |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 07/01/10 at 05:21 PM Counting the seconds till the ripple arrives at its destination... I KNOW you couldn't do that Charlie because right in the middle of counting you would notice those other ripples made by your poems and you'd really be distracted then. I just love your ripples and furrows. Know that your stonepomes have furrowed the hearts and minds of so many in this pathetic pond. Lovely poem, my friend. |
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