Waiting

Time and its observance, doesn’t seem to matter anymore in other than its passing. The days come and go sometimes quick, sometimes slow passing with little effort other than the change in weather. Warm, soft, spring mornings give easy passage to gentle, calm, hot summers now open to an exceptional but early autumn. Time full of cool winds and brisk, sudden chills sudden downpours and vibrant changing colors. Gray skies of constant flowing white and dark clouds open to scary, ominous dark cloud cover cutting off the patch of brilliant blues. The eye of God watches in between the breezes and gusts, comes a long, silent lull where God is listening to his creation praying, waiting here, below. In my own stillness I perceive that I go unnoticed. This body occupying space and time lingering in the shadows of nameless faces that pass hurriedly on their way elsewhere. I am content with that, satisfied that I do not draw any attention or cause distraction. The quiet surrounding me hovers in place, strains my ears but keeps me listening in wait for the very voice of God. I utter prayers and supplications that I am quiet enough to hear. If it comes on the wind here I wait, fighting against the threatening storm holding steady to hear the message to know where and when to return to the great unknown.