What We Await

We are waiting not to feel so
out of place and we are forever
waiting for the rain. We twiddle
our thumbs in anticipation of
the arrival of our soul mate, who,
we're certain, walks the earth but
whom we really can't summon up
the courage to go out and find.
We're hanging on in hopes of
finding our way; we're just not
actually all that hopeful we ever will.
We're senselessly dreaming of
one day being discovered by
someone who'll do all the work.
We daydream endlessly, it seems,
but always wake to find it's not even
drinking hour yet. We wait
relentlessly for drinking hour. We cling
to the hope that all barriers really will
dissolve one happy day so we can finally
walk down the street naked without
anyone noticing. We ache to be
naked in the world and unafraid.
We're legitimately waiting for
the newscasters to come on the tube
one night to say Goodbye forever.
We're waiting to find out what
the last thing on earth we'll hope
to do is. We can't help but hope,
a little bit anyway, though we
insist on being hopeless. We
look forward to breezes and rustling
leaves and the scents that float on
the world's wind. We wish for
the wind to be taken out of our sails
just by the sight of a woman. Some day.
We want and we wish and we hope
and we wait and we write and we cry
and it all just blends together as we
doze off. We pretend it's not so,
but we fear our own children will
sleep through most of their lives
just as we have. Though, it's true, we
do need our beauty sleep in order to
ready for our big day tomorrow. If that
day ever comes.

(2007)