Awaiting The Promise
Poem by Phyllis Fry
We are part of a changing world
Bystanders in a whirl
Of fast moving moments
Watching world events unfurl.
We are an integral part of the past
Left to neglect and loneliness
In a world that has no time,
Or patience, a dying generation
In a bed of quicksand and lime.
Swirling in the dust of yesterday
Where our knowledge and energy
Were sought by man and beast,
On the totem pole of life
We are now the least
Souls in an archaic and dying
Body of loneliness and fear
Slaves to the world we hold dear.
We listen for the sound of life's beeper
Or watch for the scythe of the reaper
Looking through the tunnel to eternity
We see HIS light to the CITY
And something not seen before
HIS hand holding open the door.
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