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Pebbles
Author: Mark Spencer

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Life is like pool of crystal clear water.
I'm like a pebble tossed into that pool.
I'm no different than the rest of the pebbles.
Though some think they're stones, others think they're jewels.

I can see the ripples caused by my passing;
As I go skipping 'cross the water's face,
In pursuit of goals that I've set for myself,
On my way to that final resting place.

Whatever the legacy I leave behind;
It will be the result of paths I choose.
It will dwell in the hearts of people I've touched.
I pray that my touch will not leave a bruise.

For when I am gone, will they know WHO I was?
What was the image I gave them of me?
What kind of person will they tell you I've been?
Who will they let you believe me to be?

For one day the pebble will cease it's skipping,
And come to rest in the water's embrace.
What kind of ripples will it leave in its wake?
What kind of journey led it to this place?

For these are the stories that others will tell,
Whenever this journey of yours is through.
And you will be defined by your legacy.
This is how the world will remember you.

So be careful of the impressions you leave,
For some impressions you cannot undo.
And the things you wish to be remembered for,
May go down to the grave along with you.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Tarna (75.16.229.82) -- Friday, January 9 2009, 04:27 pm

I agree

Nice write Mark.. Your writings always convey your message so well... may your gentle ripples last for eternity...
Meridian (64.12.116.201) -- Sunday, January 11 2009, 12:36 am

No surprise

A gift, if I ever saw one - and you have that gift. The gift of poetry. Makes me think of the movie Pocahontas, when Grandmother willow shows John Smith ripples in a river. Her point was the same as yours: if someone musters up enough courage to set things right, morally, then sooner or later, believers will follow.
 
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