My soul, adventuring,
In this period of life,
A different shell, last time,
So far, an endless flight.

My imitate family,
Have journeyed forward,
I learned, miss them much,
Be positive, for the reason.

My work, this era of time,
Advise help, and care
Separate, grief, moments,
Write, leave messages,
Discover, myself.      

Tom Maxwell ©  2/17/19 AD  11:35 AM

I can hear the way someone is able

to hold the notes in a harmony

like the angels themselves sing

within them from the heavens.

I can see the way a light shines

in the corners of someone's eyes

as they hold the hand of a patient

knowing that is exactly where they're meant to be.

I can feel each graceful stroke

of an artist's paintbrush

where their body and whole being meets.

And all these moments,

I admit,

have made me envious

of their absolute surety.

I have become so engulfed by a life

that is not made to be my own.

Wanting desirably to have the assurance

of a solid purpose like theirs.

But in doing so, I have lost focus

of the recognizable aspects of myself.

Aspects that deserved to be admired

by my very own senses.

For, I can hear the way the softness of my voice

is able to ease the mind

of a troubled soul.

I see the way a light shines

in my child's eyes when she looks at me

before her.

I can feel each graceful stroke

of the pencil I hold where

my body and whole being meets.

And all of these moments,

I must admit,

are just the beginning

to what is my surety.

I am the one who is

always waiting.

Always anticipating

for what is to come

or what may come.

Waiting to become

better,

bigger,

than who I feel that I am.

Stronger than what

I think that I am.


Never fully comfortable with,

never really secure in,

what is present in

the moment.

I wait with

this expectation that

there must always be more

than what there really is.

That I must be more

than what I am.


There sets a purpose,

an endeavor,

before me.

And then, once more,

there's another again.

I anticipate for each and every

opportunity and probability,

then I wait- once more-

for what's to follow.

It's the story of a life

that has an inevitable ending

but with no one

foreseen wrapped up conclusion.


And maybe,

I could see this as just

my adaptability and ability

for such impeccable growth.

Yet, while I wait,

here plays out

each sequence of my world

that races right on past me

before I can even savor

the pure fulfillment,

the true wholeness,

of just one single moment.

And how that precise moment,

in a single instant,

can be gone.

Here I sit,

amongst a silent chaos.

Desperate to find that

poetic literary justice

to my current life.

Yet,

here I sit,

finding nothing-

but feeling everything.

To the trees,
and the seeds
Please believe
The crease in
My knees
Are from pleading
Every which season
You’ll come alive

You’ll come alive

Dissidents,
Revolution,
The weak,
The meek,
The speech that
Shakes the roots
We speak
Comes alive

You’ll come alive

Like oxygen,
Deceit
So sweet
In the air
That we breathe
The droplets
We drink
Come alive

You’ll come alive

The soil
And soot
I kneel
No fear
I’m here for
You to appear
And come alive

You’ll come alive

The soul
It shouts
It loves
And doubts
Your life means
Something
Each season
You are alive

You’ll come alive

All we have in this
life is time,
Everything else we borrow,
Till the day we reach,
Our dead end signs.

We each have different hills, to climb,
Be careful, for mountain slides,
Trying to reach, the summit,
Avoiding all binds.

Decisions change with time, years,
Always be yourself, what you feel,
Others may be totally wrong,
Lazy, full of fear.





                                                                                                                       Tom Maxwell ©
                                                                                                                   4/30/19AD
                                                                                                                   11:59

Is this the Subject, of the story                                         ,                          The way, it is explained to you,
Those, just playing their part,
Or you really, just that board,
Your life, without a clue.

Is it all about competition,
Bragging rights, about what you do,
You will never get ahead,
When you only follow, their rules.

Those voices in your mind,
Your inspirations, for life, this time,
At different moments, in this journey,
They come to life, to keep you in line.
2/12/2020 AD   Tom Maxwell

I am born with a purpose
And I live with a focus
Grow with a vision
Survive for a mission
I got a reason
To live for a season
Through the trials
I have to triumph
‘cos my mission
Is to humanity
To add quality
And meaning to life
So I strive
To overcome the storm
That seems so tough
But for my purpose
I shall not lose focus
No thought of giving up
When I have not done all
That humanity demands
For it is a command
I must obey