Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Lonely Waiting


Slowly drum the fingers, empty is the hand,
Distant gaze the eyes, collecting nothing from the air;
Quiet is the breathing, quiet is the room,
Wond'ring is the mind unto the time when she was there.

Weakened are senses, languid is the soul,
Grinding turn the thoughts into the present lonely night;
Bowed, the head in weeping – O, mourn the foolish thought!
Which, lost amid the shadows, had forgot the blazing light!

Softly lay the head, the wond'ring soul is loved,
Close the eyes in peace and let thoughts dissolve away;
Quiet is the breathing, quiet is the room,
Waits the soul until the shadows flee before the day.