Fresh Voices (+3)

A poem is never truly finished…

   a song never finally sung

 

Words lay silent as yet unspoken

   fresh voices—new races to run

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

 

 

Lying There

 

Basking in the glow

  of what already happened

 

I wait for the explosion

  —of that yet to come

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

 

 

 

 

Master Of It All

 

Should God destroy a mountain

  because you’re afraid of heights

 

Should the sun stay fixed forever

  to keep away the night

 

Should the birds all sing in unison

  drowning out the siren’s call

 

Should the questions all have answers

 —with you master of it all

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

 

 

My Garden

 

I made myself a wastrel

 an orphan of my choice

 

And severed all my family ties

 in search of my own voice

 

I left without once looking back

 the present straight ahead

 

The past redundant, future flawed

 to butter my own bread

 

The years have come with decades gone

 old memories buried deep

 

Of times when I was young and hurt

 to dream but not to sleep

 

New breezes blow, fair winds to call

 the children come and go

 

As here I sit with no regrets

  —my garden fully hoed

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)