Waiting

Waiting

Waiting. I sit and I wait.
I sit. I sit, and I wait.
For a change. A change in atmosphere.

I sit. I go out for a drive in my car,
And I sit silently.
I stare at the stars in the sky,
Watching the clouds as they pass by.

And I wait. And the silence is still the same.
The voices don’t come. No ideas
In this silence, I sit, and I wait,
And I ask, what am I waiting for?

What is this waiting task?
And maybe I deny the idea.
My art is as empty as my head.
No words are flowing, no words that were said.

And so I sit, no words, just silence.
And I ask, and I pray.
A voice said why are you waiting, what for?
I said, for everything, for the silence to go wild.

And I smiled,
I know the silence is rest.
It holds me in heaven and earth,
I realise, it has no worth, than what I know.

In silence, you get the voices,
The call, the poem, the meaning,
And the writing on the wall.
Yes, just sit, with your eyes closed, silent for a while,
And something will come, I promise, that will make you smile.

So I sit, and I wait,
And suddenly, out of the blue,
A small spark of light,
Becomes a wonderful poem, and it says simply I love you.