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)
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