Posted in A Haiku, waiting


infused excitement
my childish expectations
i count the minutes

waiting 3

Posted in waiting


“Waiting and hoping is a hard thing to do when you’ve already been waiting and hoping for almost as long as you can bear it.”
Jenny Nimmo


She waited in an
empty hallway,
ghostly images,
choked the doorway.
Her heart was a lump
in her chest;
her pulse was still,
veins compressed.
She pleaded
for some lucidity,
blinded by odious

Scenes of living
were all around;
her life force
had run aground.
malignant malaise,
her breath inevitably
Unseen tears flowed on
unhinged pain;
“will she ever be the same?”

People gathered everywhere,
in shadows,
their somber stares
Mists of consciousness,
numbed by
Nothing touched
the dingy void,
dark and deep,
light being destroyed.

Angels saw the crimson
of her shattered
A divine presence
drew her breath,
mystical strength.

Worst case scenario
brought to life
her true confessions.
She tried to grasp hope,
just out of reach
mumbled words
that she did beseech.
Her pounding heart,
evoking life,
the wonderful creation
by design.
Imprisoned by her
own isolation,
lost in discontinued

Dirty hallways
of torture “am I alive”,
she couldn’t recall
the brightness of sunshine.

Her phone buzzed;
she jumped out of her skin,
gulped air,
her head in a spin.

Is this the news
that will restart her heart
or will the anguish
just tear her apart?