Espera

Waiting.
What does that even mean?
Does it mean at the end of the road, our unknown abode
I will be sitting?
I look to the right, to the sky and to the left
"Maybe he's not coming?" says my pessimist at best
"Maybe he's rushing!" says the romantic in my chest
Eagerly anticipating your arrival, I swing my legs on the fence.

Waiting.
What does that even mean?
Maybe it's reading a book, with a serious look.
If I can't see you, you won't keep me pacing
Flipping page by page, the seasons turn from
green, yellow, orange and blue...
Maybe you'll show up if my eyes don't look for you?
I read between the lines.

Waiting.
Self controlled expectation.
Sacrificial abandon, of one's impulse to fulfill desire
A humble approach, of one seeking to glorify the Creator
Waiting is pacing, with praying hands and mobile feet
Waiting is intuitive, when given a taste of something sweet.
Waiting is an action, it's a language of a captivated heart.
Waiting is saying you're worth it.
To me, you are.


~Dierdre