I play in words
Like a child in sand
Sifting grains of thoughtful
Delight from one hand.
A grain and again
Stretching past what i see,
And so deep, I maintain
Each grain will outlive me.
I may ripen through
The three seasons of day
And fall off being a child at play
As tides shift sifted sand
Across this thought-tamed land.
Still, if a grain or two
Does cling to you,
Forgive a child: you can play too.
We all find ourselves waiting: for the rain, a bus, for a spouse to come home.
All my life i have been waiting – this hasn’t stopped me from living. A lot of us think waiting is an activity that is mutually exclusive from every other thing (used to think this way meself). This thinking has led to the feet-tapping, floor-pacing, fingernail-biting variety of Homo sapiens who are unable to appreciate the journey for the destination.
There is an anecdote of a man at a party who waited in line for his turn at the buffet. It was a long line. While there, waiters would come with trays of côtelettes de petits and drinks for the people in line. With his eyes firmly fixed on the head of the line he declined all offers, imagining how good the food will taste to his hungry palettes. At long last, his turn came. He got his meal. It didn’t taste as good as he imagined. Why? There was bile in his mouth.
God has taught me to wait. A while ago, I watched life zoom past with sickening speed, blowing signposts i had placed at strategic points to the ground. I had two options: wait or live. i chose to live. waiting happened by all itself.
We put our lives on hold for “something”. Absurd, don’t u think? I can almost hear God saying… “what does it profit to gain the world and loose your soul?” We’ve tended to connote waiting negatively by calling it: ”killing-time” or “treading water”.
For those of us waiting to exhale: How long can you “wait” before you asphyxiate?
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