I
It seems I have been waiting
for most of my life,
for something.
And now two years
before I become
a septuagenarian
I can see back to those
waiting times, wanting
something miraculous
To happen -
Damn!
It never did.
I stood on life's platform
suitcase in hand
ready to leave
But the train was always late,
or never came
at all.
Just a chug-chug
In the distance
driving me mad.
So I stayed.
II
Now here I am
weary of waiting,
All worn out.
But I can leave
now if I want to,
it just means
more waiting with
bated breath and
wondering.
For I can choose
joy and beauty
to surround me
like a cashmere shawl,
soft and seducing,
beckoning.
Every day of my life,
I try to remember
NOW is all we have.
And now
a little older,
if not wiser,
I sing along in jubilation.
(WORK IN PROGRESS)
(August 18th 2008)
(Senneville, Quebec, Canada)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
.. and I am waiting for Wolfey to rate my po'um... .. BTW (like your progress Philippa) ... is Senneville close to Senileville... like 2 years? ?