Understand How to Make our Past Count for Something.


Last evening I ventured past
A field where abandoned machines were cast,
Blending in the landscape now
Old planter, mower, disc and plough.

Wading through cobwebs and weeds
Among the past where nostalgia breeds,
Loyal of wear, weak and blunt
Replaced by technology’s ruling front.

These decades of tools once held my trust
Now stilled by blankets of mold and rust,
Long they functioned, so well they pleased
Stubborn engines now fully seized.

All operative when trucked away
With hope for a resurrection day,
Their haunt of service can I erase?
Still poised for action, just in case.

Welding scars from harvest’s toll
I hear their pleas, we have a soul,
But time and weather played their game
Retired implements lost their claim.

In the backyard of our future dreams
We’ve oft set aside the “old” it seems,
Until later… awaiting the better fit
Or convenient time to fully commit.

How many plans, well-meaning parked
With a destiny contemplative marked,
End like corpses of wood and tin
Never called to work again?

Our once ideal in a field of trust
Is lost in procrastination’s dust,
Affections shelved are now asleep
Apologies delayed too late to keep.

Thanks waiting for a better slot
Kindness left in mind’s burial lot,
Hope, like wheels stuck in dry crust
All await freedom! Rescue we must.

Raise our voice and burdens carry
Don’t leave action in intent cemetery.
Perhaps next year on a better day
When all the trivia is cleared away?