Waiting Game

Temple

 

I watched you push your painted, half-filled heart up the hill,

Place it on a staff and wave it high

For all to see.

 

I saw you stumble when tragedy rent your days

Like sails in the hurricane,

How your knees fell atop your emblazoned flag

And crushed it like a grape.

 

I felt the pain you carried like a rucksack lashed to your chest.

Saw the way you lifted it in front of your eyes until 

You could no longer see the path.

 

I waited patiently, years perhaps if I knew of time.

Until finally you noticed me.

Watching, feeling, seeing, waiting.

 

Until  you found a place to set down your pack

Long enough for us to climb this hill,

Together.

 

-Chuy

About Pazlo

Armchair Zen Master, poet, father, husband, fisherman, grandfather, brother, naturalist, son, birdwatcher, uncle, collector of old things, dog person, human.
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