Out Of All The Endless Days Poem by Max Reif
Out Of All The Endless Days
I'd live my life in shorthand,
the short hand of a poem,
a zen brush painting.
Ah, the endless repetitions,
the rising, getting dressed,
going to the same workplace,
the weekends, blah blah,
and now and then a flash of something new,
a moment that leaves the procession,
flies up to the hills,
something worth writing about,
something that seems
worth God's time
A terrific write Max, simply a great read and a pleasure to find. Thoroughly enjoyed this piece. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
Maybe those 'ugh' moments wouldn't stand out in such sharp relief, if they came tumbling one after another.... Just a thought. Great poem.
Lovely to see you back, Max. A finely-crafted bijou of a poem.
Ah, those 'aha' moments make the simply mundane routine worth it all. 'Every now and then a little light shines through' - thank God! Nice little poem, but a powerful message, Max Linda
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:10:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
My dear Max, isn't life in the details... the mundane repition of things? If we do not witness these, the unordinary, then we'll never recognize the extraordinary... As always, it is a pleasure. -Eila