Great Ambition, Little Time Poem by gershon hepner

Great ambition, little time,
hope diminutive and shrinking.
What’s the point of this? I’m thinking,
dare I put this thought in rhyme?
Expectations always grow
exponentially, to graph
impossible, and yet a laugh
might take them where the wind can blow,
and raise them like ripe seed that scatters
on ears receptive to its sound,
to fertilize the merry ground,
for laughter is what really matters.


8/19/99,4/24/08