These days, I am shucking time,
running my hands over every moment,
I feel them as they pass
and I ask each one-
are you the Now where it begins?
So far, they are silent,
I let them fall beneath me.
And because I am made to wait,
I have made contact with more time than ever before.
I have lived a month of Christmas Eves.
We are connected, about to separate.
We are separate, about to connect.
You are not late, dear,
I just do not know the time.
Eager, hopeful, excited- I settle into patience.
Because this is not Amazon and this is not Zoom,
this is a ship crossing an ocean toward a foggy shore.
Where I wait,
a bit blind,
ready when you are, for the moment you arrive.