Waiting At The Window

There are days when I come up with something in my head and I decide to take the idea and write about it.  Saturday, 5 August 2006, I wrote this poem during my stay on the Perhentian Islands of Malaysia.  That was a time when a lot of what I wrote manifested itself in verse   This particular one is about waiting for the right time, waiting for the right circumstances, thinking that there is always enough time, always more time.  It follows on from my thoughts yesterday on the theme of waiting.

The Window

Claire sits and waits

"I will change", she says

Time passes

Like the cars passed the window

Each one a journey

To a different destination

And still she waits

Things will be different

Tomorrow, next week,

Next month, next year

Claire grows older

She does not realise it

But life is running

It never stops

It never sleeps 

Life goes ever on

And so she waits

I am still young she thinks

But the young look at her

And through their youthful eyes

They see an old woman

The years that once lay ahead

Now lay behind

Each one just like the next

Full of hope, of promise

But nothing realised

Claire has waited

Claire has sat her whole life

Looking out of the window

Dreaming and wondering

Poised for action

Taught and ready like the string of a bow

But the heart cannot take this

It can only wait so long

Like the string of the bow

Too much tensity and waiting

And eventually it will break

Nothing can last forever

No one can wait forever

Claire gets up to change

To start a new life

But her heart has grown old

Her legs no longer work

As they once did

When she could run

Out and across the fields

Spring sun on her face

But the winter is now here

And her heart long ago

Ceased its dreaming

Claire sits by the window

And wonders what might have been.

__________________________________________