Vernon Witmer Poet Free verse

Notes About The Poem

Soon

Soon is the time when blankets will be tucked under chins
moonlight will wash over frosted trees.
the clinking sound of empty milk bottles
early in the pre-dawn air as life begins to stir from slumber
moving into day.
I find myself on bended knees
I hear myself say.

Soon, 

as if a prelude to the words that God might pray

There are no whispers now
this thin reed life bends so slowly still
I long somehow
to capture the sound of fleeting footsteps 
with my quill as if contained
it could be reigned in, caught up,
but not so brief encased

So soon the memories are all erased

We all ask for it
Breathed between the breath
seeking life fearing death
But soon, so soon.

This lasting night with fingers stroking
hearts and minds and souls provoking
will arrive.
Born upon our backs and taking
all the gifts enjoyed by living
inspiration
motivation 
expiration

All nations of our weak vocabulary’s trace
marked in lines on every weary face

Our friend invites us in for tea
Once or twice to taste 
you see

And every night we sleep 
and in our slumber
seem so meek

Arise Goliath, pantheon of prayered Gods
Unhook your coats
move to where your Father trods
The path called Destiny awaits
we, of little choice, are lost, who hesitates

For we are the Trolls of our fears
listening deep with forefathers ears
marching on and ever on
the slippery and the shining 
to a dusk and to a dawn

for soon

comes the now for which we wait
A crashing cow thrashing now
within each moon’s arising

And we upon our books rely
all tears of yesterday defy
sums upon our sums surmising
until at last we die

Soon the poured tea gone
all laments stored by generation
classified and categorized 
organized and strategized
remain

our lasting stain.

What have we really learned
when all that burned was one brief match?

A scratch upon the pimpled ass of life.

It is not one  
It is not many
It is 
all there is

and soon

approaching the collected
neglecting the infected 
collecting the neglected
reproaching the protected

So many useless/useful things
surrounded by your view,
instilled with meaning, bought
and stored by you.

and soon

The pillow will seem softer now
life filled with fuzzy logic,
not so harsh.
The hurters seem more hurt.
The rushed more passive in their passing.

The garish ghosts just sheets of starch.

A rain that washes from the inside now.

and soon 
Thy Will be done

and soon i will become.

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Rowena Velasco July 18, 2025 at 4:35 AM A profound and haunting meditation on time, mortality, and surrender. The repetition of "soon" echoes like a prayer, pulling the reader gently into reflection. Beautifully done.

John Watt November 18, 2020 at 11:23 AM So many deep a profound ideas here, Vernon. I liked all you said and the original, unique way you present it. Being a man of faith, I particularly loved the final 3 lines. Also appreciate your rhymes and wordplay. Enjoy your day! ~ John