Waiting Poem by Philippa Lane

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)