December 1, 2007

WAITING...

 

Not for winter, nor for autumn to fade

Not for the leaves to turn green

Nor the shadows beneath the trees

But for dreams to be made real.

 

Not for the mountains to move

Nor the grounds to dry up

Not just the melody but the love

And the hope for every song.

 

Not just for the park bench and the stories

And the laughters and the whispers

But for the breath of life and faith

And the inspiration to move on.

 

I sat on the same park bench

The same cobbled stones and the lake nearby

With the memories and a prelude to Advent

And the birth of Love within.

 

The park seemed lonely, mysteriously quiet

But we have promises to keep...