The Future is unwritten, it awaits the present hour,
To reveal in unfolding moments, Creation's latest flower.
Everything that one day will become the written past,
Is contained within this fleeting day before its fate is cast.
The Future is unwritten, for the Hand is writing still,
In the flowing forth of the Great Creative Will.
From the first day through the last, each day an act of artistry,
The life of art, the life of craft, the form, divine poetry.
The Future is unwritten, for it is a collaborative affair,
The Creator's muse, the creation's pen, it is Time that they do share,
To trace across the paper the thought in all its birth,
Is what brings together eternal heaven and this fleeting life of earth.