It Is This Waiting Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is this waiting
how can one be so patient with
time that slowly covers
a dark island
with the mantle of whiteness
crawling like
a turtle upon the
bank of
brook

you want to trace the cause of this sorrow
like a line that links itself
to the
midribs of poetry?

do not mistake the cause from its effect

it is not sorrow which caused the lines to run from one end to the other
it's been there even without writing it

i ask you why there can be no comfort within her domain and
your answer is the same

the feeling is there but how can one smoothly provide words for them
to make
a chain of an explanation that can be easily understood

as a simple sentence.
it is not easy. Feelings are shadows in darkness. There is a shape but
there is no word yet.