The wait

And how long must one wait?

An hour, a day, a week, an entire lifespan? Ask Laika, the dog who waited to be brought back home. Ask Hachiko who died waiting to see his human once again.

Dogs play this game of waiting better than human lovers. Cornered in a room, all through the day, just to see you back home.  And waiting by the road just to seek a piece of bread or waiting for a kind pat, a loving voice to call their name…

The Wait

And in another land
there may be
by the shore
or at the sea
or in the valley
of the bees
another loneliness
quite like me.
So I wait
as the world fades
and its only the page
which listens to me.

Castles crumble, walls wither away but it isn’t over till you know the hymn by heart. Waiting isn’t such a bad idea, after all.