The winds of time will cease to blow,
The shining moon will cease to glow,
As history comes to an end;
Eternity waits ’round the bend.

The books and minds of all mankind
Will over time, be left behind.
What we find important today
Will soon not matter anyway.

Here today and gone tomorrow,
There’s no time to dwell on sorrow.
Just look beyond the pain and fear;
The stormy skies will soon be clear.

The great beyond is looming near.
Eternity will shed no tear.
For when the nearest star burns out,
All earthly cares will end, no doubt.

So rise above your petty feuds!
Know that eternity includes
The here and now, all things before,
And everything forevermore.

 

 

After fifty thousand miles and five years as a hitchhiker, living on the road and streets in towns and cities across America, David Paul Behrens followed with a career as an over the road dispatcher in the trucking industry. He is now retired and living in La Verne, California. His website is davidpaulbehrens.com


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17 Responses

  1. Sultana Raza

    Very true. If only more people thought like this. Once again the editorial team have chosen a suitable and beautiful illustration. Just to mention I visited Cole’s Empire exhibition in London. Well worth the visit.

    Reply
    • Peter Hartley

      I like the last three lines particularly, a good summing up of a simple theme well told, of the ephemeral nature of time and morals to be drawn from it. Another stray apostrophe for Evan to hoover up on line four, I think, as round stands on its own. I was going to write more but my I-pad is playing up so I’ll just say well done.

      Reply
  2. Joe Tessitore

    I like the poem, but let me go out on a limb and take issue with “petty feuds”.

    We are called to love our enemies, but not to delude ourselves into thinking that our enemies are not intent on destroying us.

    As Father Rutler says “This is the fight of our lives “.

    Reply
    • Yael

      Joe, with all due respect and with no intent to offend you at all, that’s way out on a limb alright, this issue you are taking. The words “love, enemies, intent, destroying us, Father Rutler, fight, of our lives” are not contained in the above poem at all. Therefore the author cannot be conflating any of those words or concepts with the term “petty feuds” which he chose to use. I think it’s safe to say that when he says “petty feuds” he means just what that term entails in its truest sense, and nothing of what you are trying to read into it.

      Reply
  3. Yael

    Very nice poem, good job!
    The rhyming is enjoyable to me in this poem because it sounds natural for the most part. The stream of thought of the message conveyed did not get mangled by the need to force a rhyme at all cost. It’s a pleasure to read, thank you.

    Reply
  4. Jeff Eardley

    David, on a bad news day here in England (students locked down in their halls of residence, a well-thought of police officer shot dead in his own police station, weather cold, dark) I turned to SCP for some well-needed light relief. Oh dear…I am sure the nearest star has another 2.25 billion years left and that the shining moon will be topping up Werewolves for some time yet, and that one day this virus will be a bad memory. However, loved reading it and look forward to hearing about the 50,000 miles on the road. As the great Oscar Wilde (or was it Monty Python) once said, “There is only one thing worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about”

    Reply
  5. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    A sagacious message wrapped up in an adeptly crafted poem that romps along smoothly with its message of faith and hope. I particularly like the penultimate stanza, with “For when the nearest star burns out,/All earthly cares will end, no doubt.” being my favorite lines. Thank you, David.

    Reply
  6. E. V. Wyler

    This poem is a great way to start one’s day, especially if one is having a series of challenging days. I’m going to forward this one to people who will REALLY appreciate these soothing words. Thank you for these sentiments!

    Reply
  7. C.B. Anderson

    Your fine poem, David Paul, could have been titled “Memento Mori”, but, for the sake of my two granddaughters, I could use a slightly more optimistic outlook. Never mind. You tell it as it is, and reality is all that any generation can or should expect to face. In this poem, as in poems you have posted in the past, I notice a tendency toward cosmic themes. You ask more questions than anyone can answer, and, dammit, I like this kind of stuff. For the record, I stuck my own thumb out over thousands of miles, but nothing like your own tally. When hitchhiking, one is always struck simultaneously by how far places are from each other and how close together they are. Your poems often express paradoxes such as this, and I would like to read more of them.

    Reply

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