Now Heaven Shone Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

At eighteen,
I thought that I could write my way to heaven
I'd waltz right in, announce my name, and sit
down on its throne

At twenty-five,
I sat in jail to rot in isolation
my freedom gone, my will deformed,
but worst of all alone

At thirty-five,
I thought that I could write my way to riches
the screenplay bombed, all doors were closed,
and wounds there freshly mined

At forty-eight,
I met a man who told me I was lost
"By Looking Out The Words Won't Come,
Your Truth You'll Never Find…"

By fifty-five,
my path was set—all trails converged as one
the entrance closed, the exit marked,
a road of denser stone

By sixty-eight,
all verse within, the lines reset to music
the darkness gone, my words set free
—all light now heaven shone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July,2018)