"Stepping Stones From A Stumbling Block" 

© 2009 (Rough Draft)

While watching the time go slowly by,
This page remains blank as the phantom's mind,
For at this moment, no words can I find,
No words of wisdom, at least none that rhyme.
Stolen from a thief in the night?
Lines forgotten, is it stage fright?
Or am I being punished for an innocent crime?
Internal clock just won't unwind.
When all of a sudden, what's this I hear?
Coming from here or there, it's everywhere.
Like a drum beating in my ears.
The type of feeling that can bring tears.
But unfamiliar to those who fear,
It's getting louder, not sure how to share.
Maybe if I had a gun that flares.
Would anyone listen or even care?
It's similar to a dream, more than a nightmare.
Where your eyes are shut, but still can stare.
Legs are'nt moving, but your running scared.
Mouth is shut, but sceaming out.
Souls impaired, with feelings of doubt.
What in the world is this all about?
Then a mist develops into a drip that drops.
Down the cheek, it begins to hop.
The hop is sorta hip,
As it turns and flip flops.
But the drip continues to flow,
A flow I can't control.
Music in the head runs to the socks over the toes.
But woe and behold, it just STOPS!..................
Then it slowly begins again, with words from within.
Just like the drip that must drop,
Why does an empty cradle still rock?
For a child must learn to crawl before it can walk.
And continue to walk after a stumbling block.
For even HE couldn't rise before a fall.
But when we fall, he's always on call.
For when we call, he'll lift us up tall.
He's the shadow of the child's picture on the wall.
Open arms, waiting for his favorite doll.
Tic toc, tic toc.
Counting the sheep that remain in his flock.
For those that learn to walk can finally talk,
And those that talk better not mock.
The words should stay focused and never cris-cross.
For we answer to only one boss.
An arm or a leg isn't worth the cost.
Don't plan revenge in the dark as you turn and toss.
Stop the anger, take a pause.
Get back on track, turn up the engine with N.O.S.
But you can't win a 100 yard dash if there's a 50 foot gymwall.
Just let the light shine from the bulb.
Let the electricity flow, at first it might shock.
Like an Easter bunny taking it's first hop.
Listen carefully, don't miss the knock.
It can all come down to a screeching halt.
So be thankful as the drip that drops.
Forming snow on the mountain tops,
Melts into steam down a waterfall,
Into a river bed, full of sharp rocks.
To the tongue of the sea where it just STOPS!..............
Then splashes around the fins that flop.
To the bottom of the ocean, once on the top.
Some others drip on dried up crops.
Life's journey is like this rain that pops.
Only ONE like HE can melt, freeze, & sleet like three,
And turn back into the purest drop.
While others slam into boats in the dock.
Onto fish enrolled in the school of hard knocks.
But some water the withered rose of God,
Good and faithful servant as he gives you the nod,
Come into my land of the greenest sod.
that's your mansion on your very own lot.
Eat from my harvest, it's full in stock.
Made it through Death Valley with thy rod,
Wake up now, turn off the Ipod.
Drip drop, hip hop, flip flop.
The time is ticking, like a clock that talks,
But, you have the key to the only lock.
Tic toc, Tick toc.
Walk along the "Stepping stones from a stumbling block."

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