Waiting For Water

Waiting For Water

In between the raindrops

And the sun,

Every now and then,

We find the thing

Our souls cry out for,

Our bellies crave,

Our hearts need,

And our heads want.

It isn't often, mostly, rare

And hardly ever found

When we most need it,

Or crave it

Or want it

It's usually on a far-away hill

Hidden in shadow

Or smoke from the burning of dreams.

Life

Is a puzzle piece

Lying

In a box full of death

Waiting to be pieced together,

To be made sense of,

And solved

Like a mystery,

When the picture comes clear.

Love, we suppose,

Should be a right

And not a gift

Should be waiting for us

At the dawn of the day

And the fall of the night,

But very seldom is,

Very seldom,

Even shows it's face.

It runs from us

Because it's afraid

Of what we'll do to it

Once we catch it

And so it runs,

And keeps it's distance

Outside of our hearts

And our hard clenching hands.

We are bellies

Begging to be fed,

Minds,

Wanting to be filled,

Souls,

Crying to find peace

And our hearts are cages

Where no bird sings.

But every now and then,

In between the raindrops

And the sun,

Though we may not know it's name,

Or recognize it's face,

Or understand it's touch,

(For we are humans, after all

And do not know what we do not know

Till it has passed.)

We find the thing

That gives life meaning

When clarity comes

Like a cup full of hope

Drawn from the wells of our darkest despair

And all of us, from the least to the greatest,

Before dying is over and all dreams gone to dust,

We will come to that well

And stand peering deep down

Sometimes, a mirage, and sometimes, for real

Waiting for water

In the desert of love.

©by Voo

Aug 15, 09

9:49 p.m.