Waiting

“Waiting”

 

 

 

Waiting in the watchful eye of eternity,

eager to hasten the day when the wait is no more,

there is a spring of hope which passes through the depths of the soul

seeking to convince me that the wait is everlasting

and that the end is no more.

 

Life is a mystery to be revealed in due time.

In its due season shall the secrets be made manifest

to those who spend life waiting, patiently waiting.

 

But to wait and with no end to be seen

there is the ever present mystery that clings

to the hope that is everlasting.

It is not to be seen with the eye,

for the mere eye of a man is but a window to the soul

that lives within.

 

There is a limit to the sight of man,

a limit that fails to appreciate the eternal nature

of the soul that resides within.

Yet there is to be revealed

an end that will never come,

an end that will never be

because life is eternal

                   and is waiting to be.

Author's Note

My very first attempt at poetry.

Reviews

[The Autumn Faerie]

For your first attempt at poetry, it's excellent. I still remember my first attempt when I was about twelve. It was terribly silly, but I grew into better, more meaningful things from there.

I really like the message this poem strongly, yet subtly, conveys. Anyone can take from it what they wish, yet still remain true to the poem's intention. It's a very rare quality.

I think my favorite lines are:

It is not to be seen with the eye,
for the mere eye of a man is but a window to the soul
that lives within.

It reminds me that no two people have the same eyes, just as no two people have the same character. No two people share a soul.

You say you don't have a real appreciation for poetry, but you write it as though you do.