Waiting Poem by Bill Marcy

The music is played in
The catatonic scale,
Lest I should awaken
Prematurely, and fail
To achieve the mission
I seek, enveloped in
My embryonic veil
Of cryogenic scale.

I'm asleep, but patient,
In no hurry to face
The world and its trifles.
Everything at present
Is guilty pleasure or pain.
What am I to do but
Surrender myself to
Suspended vocation.

If time passes too far,
And everyone I knew
Ceases to exist or
Remember who I am,
So be it. When I thaw,
The world will embrace me.
There's no time like future.
There's no time like future...