The Waiting

Sea-rusted sun rising;
night is a castaway in the yellow dawn,
Everything depends
opn the slant of light on your face this day,
turned towards me
or turned away.


Waiting, choral filaments of breath,
taut and silent,
prepare the hymn my heart will sing;
'amidst encircling gloom', hope's flare dowsed
beyond a glimmer; or, broken open, ablaze and golden,
love's burnished halleluiah