Saturday, October 6, 2007

I Am Waiting . . .





I Am Waiting . . .


I am waiting . . .


To wake up sometime after 5:30 am

To wake up with someone in my bed without hoping she doesn’t get up right away

For a cup of coffee like the ones I had in Spain

For a morning of thunder and rain

For a letter in the mail that is not a bill or advertisement

For the telephone to stop ringing

For the light on the answering machine to stop blinking the number 22

For my head to stop worrying

And for a second chance


I am waiting . . .


For the perfect poem

For a story that writes itself

For someone to remind me why I write at all

For a song to sing in the shower

For something to read that makes perfect sense

To finish reading Dante’s Inferno

For a chance to have dinner with Leonard Cohen

For the day I no longer read at all

To stop wondering about wonder

And for a second chance


I am waiting . . .


For the memory of a knife blade piercing my shoulder to disappear

For a wind to clear the dust of lost love from my rooms

For someone who doesn’t ask about my life before now

For a dream that I remember in the morning

For someone to understand every scar on my body

And every scar in my mind

For someone to finally explain why my mother committed suicide

For my father’s blessing

For time to be me without being alone

And for a second chance


I am waiting . . .


For my children to find happiness

For my daughter’s twin to be born

For my friends to call

For my sisters to find one another again

For another grand child

For something spiritual to fall into my lap

For the anger to subside

For the stages of my experience to connect

For the day I no longer shake my head in disbelief

And for a second chance

I am waiting . . .


For true and lasting love

For someone who understands my waiting

For great sex

And for something more than great sex

For my passion to love to make sense

And for my passion to hate to make even more sense

For an understanding of why I screw up

And for people to stop asking why I screw up

For the capacity to feel joy for others

Without feeling misery for myself

For an honest, heartfelt, sincere smile

For laughter

For a hand to hold

For someone to make a stand with me and beside me

For the voices of millions of millions of minds to speak up

For a cause that sends a shiver down my back

And for a second chance


I am waiting . . .


For the war to end

For CNN to go off the air

For people to be able to walk the streets of Detroit

For a generation committed to peace

For less religion and more faith

For the end of AIDS

For someone to find a way to keep children out of cancer wards

For cleaner air to breathe

For scientists with imagination

For all the day care centres to close

And for senior citizen homes to be banned

For someone to return my civil rights

For governments to close shop forever

And for a second chance


I am waiting . . .


For you

For you to complete my life without being my life

For your faith in us

For an unending chain of memories with you

For your laughter

For your tears

For your promise

For your commitment to stay with me through good and bad

For your trust

For your honesty

For your ability to see into the future

For your kiss

For your heart

For your love

And then I won’t need a second chance


Copyright © Kennedy James, 2007. All rights reserved. This post is the intellectual property of the author and his heirs and is not to be copied or reproduced in any form without the author's written consent. Please email for further information.

2 comments:

  1. I marvel at your quiet introspection, that takes in so much more than yourself. Some of those lines are echoed in my own wishes..they are good things to wait and hope for. I like that you say wait rather than hope. It feels so much more confident.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I have to smile, because I have read your blog entries without looking at dates..until this minute, so I wonder now how many of those things you waited for then have materialized. Many I hope.
    Best wishes ~Lilah

    ReplyDelete





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