Waiting: A Poem on Thanksgiving Eve

Waiting

by Stephen W. Smith

on Thanksgiving Eve Morning 2008

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Sitting in the hush of darkness,

alone star in the western sky.

Silhouetted horizon awaits,

the pulling up of the thanksgiving morn.

Waiting. Yes, waiting.

for the first ray of morning's glory.

Now darkness, soon glory.

Squeezed in the in-between.

How old Lazarus must have stirred

when the light of that day first crept in.

No waiting for him.

Now, I am in his place.

That you would come for me,

stills my soul in breathless wonder.

Yet, it is still dark now.

And I am waiting, waiting, yes waiting still.

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Copyright 2008. Stephen W. Smith