The Chair Poem by Max Reif
The Chair
A chair sits
In a Waiting Room.
The chair, too, waits,
To embrace a new sitter,
Offering itself in perfect surrender,
Completely free of judgment.
I can learn from the chair’s
Model of perfect service,
But no artisan except Time,
Who makes and destroys worlds
Within a blink of God’s Eternal Eye,
Can structure the framework
And upholster the cushions
Of kindness into
My mind and heart.
(2004)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 7:09:52 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
