Future Poem by Raz Nicholson

The mind is a mountain
the future sits atop the peak,
when inspiration strikes
it just adds a little heat

Although the future is far,
from the people on the ground
the heat has things moving
and the future's trickling down

Like big things far away
it looks like it's moving fairly slow,
purest clean, blocks of ice
turn to blinding snow

The snow is fresh like new born flesh
it's crisp, it's new, it's clean,
soon it's trampled in the mud
so decides to become a stream

It's not so far, its clearer now
oh the future will deliver,
the stream is small but somehow falls
down to make a river

The rapid river, cuts, and roars, with
current too quick to be free,
it's not the place to take a swim
as it empties into the sea

The purest ice, is here at last
for the people on the ground,
careful with the heat, or we shall meet
our makers as we drown.