Monday, January 23, 2017


It was a closed book
Thick grey and very important looking
He lay it in front of me..
I could see the frayed pages on top of the other
Read, re-read, stacked, marked, contemplated , and even ..slept upon....I guess.
I wait. Patiently ..I think ,
Time goes by .. shadows change.
We look at the book in-between , and then at each other
Waiting ..stretches the long pause in the conversation
I am silent ..and so is he, just like the grey book
Silence !!!
I am still waiting…
But now, No longer waiting still.
I begin to fidget, look around, long quick breaths escape unchecked..
He continues to look at me,does not move an inch, and then the book
He isn’t about to break the silence anytime soon ..I can sense that.
Time has some strange habits..
I notice my body beginning to contract inch by inch
I fidget to make space, to breathe ..
and in that shifting ..
I suddenly become aware of, the nature, of my waiting, shift
What was masquerading like patience was really, tolerance.
And as I hear the voices of the two Waits
I hear..
Tolerance saying, “I am waiting ..Can we move on..?”
Waiting for things to close..
Patience saying, “I am waiting ..Can we move in…?
Waiting for things to Open..

Waiting suspended for a bit
Taking a deep breath.. I smile,
Waiting now....
Not to move on - but to move in.

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