Friday, June 05, 2015

The Heaving Wait

What mysteries visit in the dark
when knowing and loving fail
and joy is forgotten?

I’m tempted to conclude
amidst the heaving wait
that darkness will utter the final word
that doom shall consume
that all I’ve ever feared
will become true

But if I wait
for the heaving to do its work
until my hands hang limp
and my knees give way
fall to a calming quiet

As I wait there
powerless and oddly safe

as pure gift
the dawn breaks

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