this is
this is taking longer
just as
just as i felt ready
you've held me
in the waiting room this year
----
needlepoint inscription
delivered straight to my doorstep.
i ran my fingers over
the colored thread
and instead
heard the fabric’s woes
of each silver puncture
that made it “glow”
oh….
it too hurts before glory.
pains before complete.
----
so the song tracked me down
through a beating river sound
and i wanted everything in the world
but to go (to drown)
i found it not appealing
nor amusing
that my name was
stitched so perfectly
to this dreaded invitation.
taunting in its
beauty.
strange and peaceful luring.
my figure glared from
50 untouched steps
away
the hall was long and white
lead in my boots
noise in my spine
echoes of my longing
bouncing cold, to the door
that held nothing for my ache
i thought-
only promised i'd wait more.
empty draft in the hall
the white washed walls
steps in despair
in the cold
to my chair
but the plaque on the wall
warmed like ocean air
written engraved:
those who wait here
will not be put to
shame.
those who wait here
will not
be put to
shame.
now the arms of the chair are wearing down
but there are
wildflowers
growing all
around.
and dignity washes my skin to shine
sun broke the ceiling
my bones stronger in time
and he’s convinced me with
nothing but his face
that my blood is still living
the water’s great.
i swim in the dark under night strewn sky
damn, it hurts sometimes to feel so blind
but the salt is my season
i'm in liquid home with the heavens
float on top in suspension
i'll go when i'm ready
and his care swells til i’m taken
with an iron hope
his care swells so heavy until
i know he knows.
and my longing rests in a great in-between
it is
his
trustworthiness
we must
know.
and mine is peace.