Making Every Minute Count
Poem By Mark Adrian Adonay
Things are changed by a blink of an eye,
There comes a new one, that passing by
Just a count. Like the chaff that was
Driven away by the blow of the wind.
It isn’t longing that which was left behind
Even so that was taken. It is true
Like what was spoken; “There is no new “
No, not at all. Just I ponder, as I seeing the world
Full of difference. Every moment that passed,
Another new one is made. It isn’t longing
Like how the sun arrived at morning,
And the moon hanged up at evening:
The old one will be vanished, new one will reign
Something will be taken, some will be as vain.
What is happening now is like a ground’s dust
That was cutted into pieces, yet again
Cutting it, to form another one, like there must
To be made more again, an everlasting new it seems.
But soon, things will end on things.
Last things will be only as it is created,
There is no more that can be invented,
Because all things has a limit.
Knowing that it is, I make myself counting
Every minute. For me, every second is a blessing,
Every blink of mine eyes is from the grace of God,
And every hour that passed cannot be
Without His mercy for me. Every blood that lives in my veins
Shall not be without Him, every moment and gesture,
My life still not for pleasure, and rejoicing for the things
God hath done for me, and suffering for His sake
And for the things that I shall do for Him.