Jonathan Fiscus

Staff Writer

 

It’s today that we encounter 

the tomorrow of yesterday.

For just one day ago

this one was one away.

The time anticipated,

In which we placed all things

came along, but withheld all

did not elation bring.

A day away forever

is tomorrow, what a sorrow

For though that day

may come to pass

Another in resemblance

assumes its grasp.

 

Today occurs daily.

Today is every day.

But, it also coincides

with tomorrow’s yesterday–

For just one day from now,

this day’s by memory saved.

It seems there is no ending–

a new day comes every day;

but, realise all save one

have been claimed by yesterday.

 

It’s today that we start the rest of our lives

But “It’s tomorrow that I shall do it.”

For everything I have yet to do

shall, if done, 

happen on this occasion 

or any other one.

But tomorrow, 

Though supposedly approaching

Never truly comes

Except in the form

that’s present this day.

But, “It will happen tomorrow.”

Or, will it?

For in just two-day’s time

Tomorrow turns yesterday.

And we ask ourselves,

“What will today look like tomorrow?”

Though the hour may fast approacheth

Tomorrow never comes.

 

Change is in the present

There’s only one time we ought to live in

And it’s today!

For yesterday, we could’ve made progress;

and we make wishes for our tomorrows;

but, only today do we do.

We may pretend to be without clue,

but the past is just a collection of todays

taken by yesterday.

 

We strive for a better tomorrow

But only ever see one era: today

Our lives run on a line,

not a loop that we replay.

For though the sun may rise and set

It’s what we sow that’s what we get.

 

A hustle, a bustle

A scurry about

We move so quickly

We end up without

The time to watch a midnight star

the distance to which

O so far

For even at the speed of light

could not reach it in a life

Many wonders await us

But at the heavens, we jeer

Checking the forecast daily

A slight misconvenience is our fear

 

If only this day were to end;

The remainder, in bed — I shall spend.

For each new day, another’s sure to follow

But there will come a time

for the truth to be swallowed.

Humans aren’t invincible,

though we may mock.

To find a stowed body, 

just locate a rock.

 

No, we haven’t time infinite–

numbered are our days.

The Earth counts down quietly,

waits to ensue decay.

And our last day shall be just that–

Charades no more to ponder at

We’ll see the faux of our tomorrow;

be at the mercies of our yesterdays.

The same yesterdays that were todays

Todays we thought not much of

For “There will be a tomorrow tomorrow.”

But tomorrow never came.