Paul Bluestein


You can try to change the future,
you can rearrange the past.
You can argue for an option
but you cannot make it last.
The heart can have its reasons,
which reason cannot know
while all around you,
the winds of heaven blow.

No secrets still in hiding,
And there’s nothing left to show.
It’s far too late for questions
and the answers come too slow.
You can feel the river flowing
but you can’t tell where it goes
and you cannot know what’s waiting
when the winds of heaven blow.

A beggar dressed in ragged clothes
points an empty sleeve
and asks if you can understand
the tapestry you weave.
There’s a doorway you can’t enter,
a door that you can’t close
and all around you,
the winds of heaven blow.

Stand by one another
through the laughter and the tears.
Dance with one another
in the shadow of the years,
when the sound of the wind
is all you hear.


Paul Bluestein is a physician by profession (still practicing), a musician (still practicing) and a dedicated Scrabble player (yes, ZAX is a word).  He writes poetry when The Muse calls unexpectedly and rings insistently until he answers, even if he doesn’t want to talk with her just then. He currently lives in Connecticut with his wife and the two dogs who rescued him.

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