Oh, this is very beautiful, very simply beautiful, SB. You've trapped me in
your waitingroom prison, wanting the blue sky cloak.
"These altered windows shed the sun like water." More deceptively simple
beauty carrying pain/waiting.
I now, in thrall, await your freeing me. You give a hint of it when you
say: "If you call my name, shall I follow you?" I was begging you to leave
the waitingroom for the blue sky---without rescheduling the doctor's
appointment.
Blessings and peace, SB,
Judy
----- Original Message -----
From: "SB"
Subject: Snapshot 17 August 02005
I am waiting for the sky
to fall. I am waiting
to be wrapped in its blue
cloak. I wait for this pain
in my shoulders to grow
into wings. I wait for
the one who can lift me
without effort. I wait for
the people in this book
to step out and fold me
in. I am waiting for winter,
for this dream to open
into spring, I am waiting
to wake up.
I sit in this room with
the other petitioners,
with the flat wood tables,
with the magazines
and their glossy pages.
I am waiting for my name
to be called. I am waiting
to be told what to do. I am
rising to my feet. If you call
my name, shall I follow you?
These altered windows
shed the sun like water.
There is nothing out there,
on the other side.
--
~ SB =^..^=
http://www.sbpoet.com
http://sb.chatango.com/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/sbmontana/
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