In my life I have thought a lot,
writing some thoughts to be a dot,
a tiny speck of poetry,
written there for other's to see.
If not now but to be found
as a bottle bobbing over time
upon the future sea.
I would hope this tiny dot
would be able to give
some knowledge of what,
how and why, we live
in the here and now, somewhat.
Like that bottle on the open seas.
or that time capsule sealed in steel.
But now our thoughts are stored in cyberspace.
I hope we will leave some trace.
for the future to read the past.
For if you take away the past,*
the future will not last,
If we poison the tap root,
the future will be corrupt.
Now I sit a thinker still,
unable to break my will
from being one bead
one tiny seed
upon this collection of poetry.
Just imagine what
the future would think
finding this recording
of poetry, our hopes and dreams.
What if they had forgotten how, to read or write and even think as we do now?
How could they then understand
our words and what they mean?
So in the future our words would become,
just like a clay tablet of strange marking or some,
papyrus parchment where a future mind
would have to find meaning of some kind.
For we are but ,
just a flash of time,
our lives are really a tiny cut,
of the cosmic time line.
Still I think deep a little "but,"
Rings in my mind.
What if these words I write can only be,
Of some help in the here and now?
Well I sit with my friends, "here,"
in this cyberspace cafe.
Sharing our sweat and tears,
Opening up our fears,
Turning words into poetry,
Bringing alive yet another story.
Just for us to read?
* Please note that this treasure of a thought belongs to a Writer http://www.wattpad.com/user/DavidWozniak from his book http://www.wattpad.com/story/1671279-the-gardener-of-nahi
