“How Blest the Paradise to Come”

  “How Blest the Paradise to Come”

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

He offers us a rhythm that does not

Arrive, not ever.  Patterned beats hide far

Away beyond the farthest black — though hot

As every wish denied.  The hottest star

In farthest galaxy is closer to

Us than his farthest cadence offered…but

Withheld.  He offers melodies so true

That they would fill us totally, would glut

Us singingly with bliss, but then he fails

To give them, not to ears and not to hearts.

He offers ships but none of them has sails.

He offers nothing to our throbbing parts.

  We offer marrow prayers or all we can.

     He offers us . . . an empty caravan.

~ Phillip Whidden

by phillipw | Apr 13, 2025 | GO | 0 comments