Waiting

by Kendra Abel February. 21, 2019 270 views
I wrote this poem during long airport hours years ago... but here I am again. A whole different sort of season, yet returning to meditate on waiting. What's the purpose? How to wait right and holy? How to live the present and not lose the present? And what am I really waiting for?

I wrote this poem during long airport hours years ago... but here I am again. A whole different sort of season, yet returning to meditate on waiting. What's the purpose? How to wait right and holy? How to live the present and not lose the present? And what am I really waiting for?

Waiting. Waiting. What a word.

Waiting. Waiting. How absurd.

There is never a time when a moment isn’t present.

Yet the mind slips to those far away and

the present slips and

goes away forgotten and lost in

Waiting. Waiting.

Does it exist?

Waiting Waiting.

Will it persist?

And we wait for a land

where it can’t exist

and time won’t persist

because it’s swallowed in the Eternal

and life’s a long journal

but it never ends

and the waiting bends

until BROKEN,

and the present–Eternal

the same word

are SPOKEN.

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Laurie Madsen 5 months, 4 weeks ago

BEAUTIFUL!

5 months, 4 weeks ago Edited
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