In The Waiting Time

Weary of the warrior's way
aching for some time of peace
I move from room to room unknowing

how to carry out this pace
I tell myself this will be over
the waiting time for us will end

and in newness this life open
out into its spring again

I am raw as foggy mornings
wishing for that smoking cup
between my hands, or your face

looking always, always up
I could wish and sometimes do
that time could somehow be

turned back, and yet our paths
that world would cross, and we

would find each other as we have
moving forward, building our lives
into something hopeful, better

but that in us which now strives
I wonder: would it be in us
were time turned back, or

is it only in us now because
our wearing lives have so worn

us, changed, into our present form?

29.xi.07