Waiting For

It’s like waiting for God, oh so much. Yet why, oh why so long? Clocks move so slowly as I watch, yes, watch my wrist, too, oh so long, so long the clock, the watch, the clock, the watch. Yet strangely, irritably, the time – the time that seemed so long – has gone, gone so swiftly, passed into the past. Time that was pre-noon, is now post-noon; aye, now, for morning has shifted, never to be seen, smelt, heard, felt. Gone, for now once more becomes then; aye, then. But there will be another. Oh God, oh yes. Oh God, oh indeed. (Dec 2021)