The long wait

T
H
E

L
O
N
G

W
A
I
T

Patience, a virtue they say,
such is the truth in an awkward way
When the vision won't fade
and the trek when made,
delivers us home, in the bed we made.

But "it will come!" they chant
The end of the world, a common rant
Or a new beginning, maybe the last
in an effort to hope that they can and I can't.

The kingdom of loneliness is theirs to give,
to shrink and to harden, to shape and to live.
But who wants that? Is that what I get?
Does jesus wear booties so his feet don't get wet?

I think its clear that the light we all see,
isn't at the end of the tunnel for me
Its at the beginning, for me to see
Where I'm going for now,
and where I will be.


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