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)

Leave a comment