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When the Time Comes: poem by Cynthia Pitman


Photo: lily of the valley, its multiple small white bells hanging down, with rich green leaves in the backgound,  image by IgorKon, on Pixabay, modified.



























lily of the valley, image by IgorKon, on Pixabay, modified



When the Time Comes

 

 

When the time comes,

wash my hair in fresh summer rain.

Brush it from my face

and let it hang in the new shining sun.

Anoint my skin with honeysuckle dew.

Renew the chiseled grooves

that life has left.

Restore the flush

of life’s first blush.

Soothe my weary feet

that have walked so far

for so very long

with Living Water from the springs.

Wrap me in a cloak

made from soft white petals

of lily of the valley.

Let it comfort me within.

Then lay me in the arms

of Heaven’s sweet-singing angels.

Let me rest there, forever,

in His holy love.











Cynthia Pitman, author of The White Room,

Blood Orange, and Breathe (Aldrich Press,

Kelsay Books), has been published in 

Amethyst Review, Ekphrastic Review,

Third Wednesday (One Sentence Poem

finalist), Saw Palm (Pushcart Prize nominee)

and others, and in Vita Brevis anthologies 

Pain and Renewal, Brought to Sight & Swept

Away, What is All This Sweet Work? and 

Nothing Divine Dies.








February 2025 issue

 
 
 

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