Wait

It’s not that we’re abandoned,
but that we demand delight
at every turn.

We can only stay sated so long.
Even joy must be digested,
allowed to settle and feed
the body.

Make space for hunger,
boredom and fear,
from which hollow
something new will emerge.

Wait for yearning,
wait for the willingness
to kindle a life,
to find and forage
for that which nourishes,

to walk and work for
that which does not need to be earned after all
but lies waiting,
shadowed by our lashes,
hidden from our desperate eyes.