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.
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