In place out of time
No seat hath reserve
A face for this rhyme
To repeat and observe
Halted to wait
Not else to be done
But to clean off the slate
For the marrows new sun
What then of this waiting
Will soul find a task
Or go on restating
The words of the past
A tenuous perch
I strive to achieve
A virtue of worth
In this time of reprieve
A moment alone
Be little of bother
If stands it alone
But succeeding another
It drags on my psyche
My mood doth depress
My bags hang not lightly
None can I detest
Save for thy self
For I wrought this far fling
Of my person to places
'Neath weight of my things
An erring maneuver
Has brought me too soon
To this leg of my journey
Where wait I the moon
To trace half a circle
And yield marrows noon
Wait I not in glory
Nor hope I in vain
For life's purgatory
Shall yield it's due gain
If only a grain
Of that we've lost
Each side shall we see
Of a coin ever tossed
With resolute hearts
Embrace dark and light
lo' the desolate parts
Make higher the heights
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem