Waiting For Time Poem by Kurt Philip Behm
Waiting For Time
My mind is a garden
whose plants have grown tall
Their season end harvest
awaiting the call
Ideas and feelings
cross over in rows
The laughter of children
to lead where they go
My thoughts now a storeroom
the food all put up
Its sustenance waiting
for time to erupt
The answers gone fallow
inside of my head
All questions reseeded
—and pointing ahead
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March,2019)
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5/5/2024 11:35:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
