How much prescience
did you leave behind
futures left unfelt
How much transience
were you denied
with aces left undealt
How many doors
stayed closed and shut
no matter how hard you knocked
How many chances
did you waste
— as you slaved before the clock
(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)
Unto Thy Name
A pregnant Nun
in rural France
long cloistered
and alone
While crowned in light
from high above
she kneels before
the throne
Her vows intact
as rumors grow
she lives beyond
the fray
And hears a Voice
from deep
inside
“Unto Thy Name They’ll Pray”
(1st Book Of Prayers: October, 2025)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Online) - Published: October 8th, 2025 10:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Online)
Comments4
Time a commodity not on the stock exchange and not for sale. Lost is gone. Nicely written my friend.
Yes, we are all its potential victims. Thanks
Very thought-provoking, as always, my friend! Very well written and I love the title of the first! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks so much.
Honestly, a lot of time. There were so many options for other options...but the path we're on now is just as adventurous. Well done!
Thanks, appreciated.
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