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The Waiting

The Waiting

I don’t remember what I was waiting for—

maybe I was waiting for

hearts to open,

eyes to see,

ears to hear …

maybe hope to appear,

love to grow and flow over

these dividing walls.

But I know I was waiting on others …

And I waited until I felt the air begin to chill

and until I saw the sky darken.

Hope was fading with the light.

I stood to touch a feather falling without a purpose,

waiting to see if I could hold on to the feeling of

it’s flight to me.

But as I stepped forward,

I felt a new hope—

a chance to leave this waiting place

and journey forward to find my own flight,

my own purpose—

to plant the love I was waiting to grow—

to open my own eyes

to the beauty of the world

I had ignored while I waited—

to hear the hopes in the songs

that I had tuned out through my own indifference.

I stepped out of the shadows

and walked

and danced

and sang

and loved

and felt more alive

and wondered why

I was ever

waiting for you.

--Chris Pepple ©2017

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