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.
Comments about Awaiting The Promise by Phyllis Fry
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You