by Frank Cavano, MD

Oh, that I might listen to none but You
Sit with hands, open, upon these knees
Other sounds silent as in beckoning sleep
Your whisper more compelling than my
Trumpeted agenda.

For what You Will I will but do not wish.
To each thought that intrudes I give welcome
And place a crown upon its headlong crazy thrust
Crowding You out with wishes and thoughts
I have blessed with
Unholy water, turbid
And foul and septic
Banishing Your ever-present, all-inclusive
Song of Love
With the awful, awful jingling of counting coins.

Frank Cavano is a retired physician who writes poetry when moved by powerful feelings, thoughts or images. As he describes it, "Most of what I have written seems to fit in the metaphysical/spiritual/inspirational category."

Frank currently lives in Bluffton, SC with his wife of 44 years, Carol. His sons and their wives have blessed the couple with four granddaughters and a grandson who are the light of their lives.

More poetry from Dr Frank Cavano

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