Forbearance by CG and TT
I am not waiting, I am here
A weighted patient, bided for beginning
Horizon's curve flattened
New dawn or the dying of a light
Immersed, each sense full, filled
Skin shed, eager to leave the cocoon
Yet strangely settled, as new wings colour
An anticipatory flutter, a change or return
A flight booked but not yet taken
An uncertain journey, a measured pace
Today there is only today
Being in the present, a gift
I open at sunrise and hope for at dusk
A childlike wonder, a sense of awe
My tilted head heeds into the silence
I stay in the dance, awaiting the music to resume
I am here, present to myself
Unwrapped.
Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte
After Derek Mahon
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the
conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.