Tonight I am
standing on the shore.
Sands shift beneath my feet and
I am waiting, even though
I tell myself I am standing/being/present.
But I know, in the deepest place of my
wanting, I am waiting.
There is, in this kind of waiting,
(for a love/lost love/found love/new love/old love)
a stirring born of hope
that can make you feel
so alive -
of shifting sand moved
in preparation for what might come,
the winds of blessed change
that forever alter
No one arrives.
Did you know this would happen?
I am here
wanting to be full and
alive without the waiting,
sands shifting beneath my feet.