Call To Heaven Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

Poetry's sacred
prose not so much

One to be read
the other to touch

The verse spoken freely
in a nighttime array

Phrases more conjured
to outlive the day

The medicinal magic
that hides in each line

Lifts my body to flight
in a nocturnal climb

The prose gets pounded
and pounded again

And its linear sense
I find hard to befriend

As twilight appears
from the corner of my eye

The couplets on fire
I look to the sky

With my very last breath
not taken in vain

It's with meter and rhyme
—I call to heaven again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April,2015)