You Wait No More

The horizon line is smudged between here and eternity, the sea between, a vast domain across which vision strains toward a distant shoreline, undefined. You sailed away long ago, leaving me here, grieving, my eyes grown heavy with not seeing. I am waiting. Are you waiting, too, looking back toward me from the other side of the sea? Is your vision clearer, dearer than all else to me, dearer because others are here and you are far away. Do you see a wider perspective, around or above the waves that rise and pound against my shore? You who know both sides now, I wait to come to you. You wait no more. Copyright, September 9, 2015 Faye Lanham Gibson