poetry: Waiting

It’s hard waiting.

Waiting for something. Or nothing.

For someone.

For words, or words to end.

For change.

For pain to go and peace to come.

For news.

For hope.

For love.

For healing.

Waiting, for time.

For windows of space.

For need to be met.

Waiting: moaning, monotonous waiting.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

That’s where we have to live and move, somehow.

Hungry, yet full of the now.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.