Saturday, November 22, 2014

Waiting for the woman

When I start sorting through papers of my life, you have to be submitted to them. Here is a poem I wrote in 2006, when our dog was not a year old. Now he's almost 8 and still the same.

WAITING FOR THE WOMAN

Our dog--only ten months old--
a Puli (Bob Marley's hair walking)
climbs on our bed--our futon, actually,
and lays on the pillows, with one leg
and his head up against the window
that looks out on the driveway of our house.

I found him there tonigh,
Gazing out, looking for the woman,
my wife, who is away
at a birthday dinner
(God bless her....)

I asked him if he were
waiting for the woman.
And from his look, I knew he was.

Totally committed and obsessed,
riveted to the window,
watching, waiting, longing,
for the love she will bring to him.

And aren't we all--each in our own way--
leaning our faces against the window
of Life...watching...waiting...longing,
for Love not yet here
or present, still distant and away?


No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive

About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.