The game
06.22.07 (9:32 am) [edit] |
It is all a waiting game that we are part of,
Externally expressed by how it happens in our outward lives,
We wait in doctors offices,
Traffic of course one great burden in how it manifest,
Airports a common experience of waiting.
Waiting for that phone call,
That friend to come,
Or perhaps waiting for just someone to enter our lives,
Hopefully to make a difference.
Some days we can forget about waiting
So much to do,
Important business to attend to,
The inner waiting game can be forgotten,
Tick Tock it still is there,
Yes waiting for our attention.
Boring hours an invitation to enter into it fully,
More often this desert preferred to opening that door,
So we run,
Complain of the outer waiting
When in fact it is so close to the real thing,
Shadowed true,
That it makes for some...uneasiness,
For others rage,
Yet again resignation.
Until the day suddenly the wait is over,
We sink and the waters of time flow over where we stood,
As if we never were or ever waited at all,
A brief time of mourning perhaps because of love,
Then silence.