And he is waiting
He watches her
He feels the pull
But remains silent
She senses his soul crying out for her
But remain silent
Not now, the universe whispers
He understands how she feels
He feels it too
Not now, the universe whispers
He is growing into the man he believes she deserve and he waits
In the silence
In the background
Watching her
Waiting
He knows she needs time to heal
He longs to see her blossom again
He whispers silent words of encouragement
She hears them
They both wait without standing still
And feel each other without touch
Not now, whispers the universe
Be patient and trust what you feel.
He is there
He is waiting
He is the love she seeks
He has mirrored her journey
Felt the pain
Not now, whispers the universe
But soon
So he waits
He feels
He stays silent
But strong
She waits
She grows
She knows
This is the love
She lived her lifetimes for
She has waited a thousand years
She would wait a thousand more
Heather Wightman April 2019
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Heather Wightman and writers in Poets and other communities.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.