It’s all over too quickly. When I look
Behind, all that I was and did are blurred,
Like someone’s flipping pages of a book
So fast that I can’t read a single word.
Yet every day has something that I wrote—
A hope, a love, a loss, a gift, a need—
And thoughts and dreams that only God can quote,
For years are books that only God can read.
This one’s done now; another one begins
In which I hope I’ll never try to be
Less than my best, or fret about who wins,
Or live a single day complacently,
But smile through what I cannot celebrate
And word by living daily word create.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells