WAITING THOUGHTS
In metal chair
I sit,
waiting
till someone else's
task is done.
Waiting...
the "how" of it
always
always
our free choice.
The flow of life itself
by permission
streams
in light ripples
past my face.
My hair,
though banded back,
ruffles softly,
freely,
in the passing,
streaming flow.
Waiting...
need not be
a loss,
a waste
of life...
So...lying fully
on my back,
tip of face
above the ripples,
I "wait."
Clear, smooth wavelets
lapping up
my body's length,
immersing me
in flow.
Toes curl
over smoothest rock,
anchoring me
to my place
in life...
But...passing need
of anchoring,
they uncurl...
so...I float
head-ward
down the stream.
High mountain sunlight
plays, dancing
on my cradling,
flowing passage.
Then...of course...
He is there.
Of course...He,
never speaking,
but leading, guiding,
He...Who brings me,
bridal-wreathed,
homeward
to my patient Groom.
He...Whom I know,
Whose depthless eyes
are formed
from sparkling water-light.
My flow is
into Him...
the stream
becomes
His Presence,
And...right there...
in the grocery store
I float
into His eyes,
lying still...
beyond all need
...and "wait."
Jo Anzalone 6-6-2004