O my dear creator help me to channel you!
Months have passed since I made anything. Speechlessness
is bad for both writer and teacher—and what else
can I be? On this wee patch of earth, I’m waiting.Typing here, I’m waiting for guidance. Cleaning up trashfrom passing cars, I wait. Cultivating pine treesand bushes of red and yellow roses, I wait.Counting three parts per foot, I am waiting for you.Counting four feet per line, I am waiting for you.I’m occupying this corner as a free zonewhile I wait, although I haven’t told this story.Has waiting become its own prayer, creator?Is this where you want me? Can I serve standing here?Amen then. I’ll pray and wait for you without fear.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
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© 2021 Susan L. Chast