Soul In Waiting
I stand at the side of the lake at dawnstaring at the still visible moon
gently whispering the secrets of the night
to the rising sun
already blazing upon the water
garish, nearly blinding sparkling ripples
that rise and disappear
I stand -
too distracted to feel the unusually cold breeze
chilling my bare skin
My eyes scan over the pale blue hydrangeas,
the crimson roses
yet they do not thrill me
nor does the singing of the birds
I stand -
waiting to hear your voice
telling me what I long to hear
waiting to feel my heart sink
like the whispering moon
at daybreak
or rise like the blazing sun
and warm my cold,
lonely soul-in-waiting.
Poetry by CelticWish
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Written on 2007-04-21 at 16:09
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