Take the Time

My office desk clock was correct at the beginning of the day, yet watching it made me an hour late to a meeting at the end of the day. I thought I was in a great, productive zone until I realized my clock had gifted me with an extra hour . . . how thoughtful! In recognition of today's experience and our recent time change, here's an old song I wrote back in college that you're welcome to create some music for (if you give me credit for the words)! 

Take the Time

a pop song that needs music

v. 1

Books left unwritten

Songs left unsung

Words left unsaid

Because we’re on the run.

Why don’t we learn

Today is all we have?

The past is gone.

Tomorrow may not come.

The moment is fading fast

Inside, we fear it won’t last.

Chorus

If we could hold time

And all the words rhymed

For eternity,

Think how life would be.

But time slips away

In seconds of a day.

We’ve gotta take the time.

We can’t be so blind.

2nd time only

I want to love you.

Don’t be so blind.

v. 2

We have each moment

In the moments of our lives.

We have our dreams.

Don’t squander them with whys.

Life is a gift

That’s both good and bad.

We can live it now

Or think what what we could’ve had.

It’s tempting to dream away.

Don’t forget; we only have today.

Chorus

The moment is fading fast.

Inside we know it won’t last.

Chorus

It’s tempting to dream away.

Don’t forget. We only have today.

We’ve gotta take the time. We’ve gotta make the time.

We’ve gotta make the time. We’ve gotta take the time.



My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Last Harvest

Sometimes, the last passes unnoticed.

Last Harvest

Scent of dried corn dusts

cool breeze.

September sun settles pinkly beyond

this field

of broken stalks and grasshoppers

and black soil.

Do these Midwestern slopes remember

stretching through

wild and untended

centuries

supporting

grass, flowers, briars, trees,

crops seeded by no hand?

When buffalo wandered,

did prairie see

squirrel burying black walnuts

unearthing fossilized fragments,

sea life long since

forgotten?

Which day

breaks

declared the beginning

of change?

How long

these acres yielded

to civilization bearing

food

year

after

year

at mercy

of farmer

and nature?

Today

some wildness

remains about.

Deer steps cautiously over

ground nuzzling dirt,

nibbling few remaining grains from

otherwise bare cob.

Tomorrow

deer hide.

Bulldozers and blueprints

bury

earth

as human eyes see in

buildings and concrete

growing

money.

Preparing to lie

dormant,

just another winter

tonight

this still

fertile

land

touches

coming age.

Last harvest.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Rain in Clover

While the intense heat of summer can be brutal, I sure am longing for July as I look out my window at piles of melting snow.

Rain in Clover

Dying in breathless summer silence,

field of clover lies wilted and limp.

Crimson faces mourn approaching shadows

and tremble

as deep

echoes

arise from earth.

Gasping at cool whispers, bowed heads slowly wake.

Green bodies sway in chanting wind.

With a frenzied dance, every rooted being sings

as showers from heaven spray and save all

from sure death.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.