I Will Be Ready Poem by Trevor Toews

The letter was short, for it didn’t need to hold a lot
Soon they could say, face to face, what a letter could not.
Her fluent hand and the narrow pointed pen,
Briefly recounted the week’s events, and confirmed again,
That their love was strong, as rich as it ever was,
Kept by the silent work that distance does.

The war was over, and the cloud of worry and grief,
Was swept away by tangible, bright relief,
And knowing the trains would be full, with many delays,
She knew there was no sense counting the final days,
She ended the letter simply, “I will wait,
And I will be ready, even if you are late.”

Now I am waiting for tarrying, wandering trains,
And sometimes resolve for constant readiness wanes,
It would seem that early arrival would catch me off guard,
But it is the late, weary shifting that makes it hard.
How long can I stare up the track, and watch and wait?
“I will be ready, even if You are late.”