The Waiting Ones by Dennis Lange

 
         The Waiting Ones

The ship that sailed like summer sailed,
Like sun drops out of sight,
Has not returned, though many months
Have passed as restless night.

There is no news of its bold crew,
Though on the beach we stand
Like palm trees fastened by their roots –
Though we by love’s strong hand.

The ocean ends in distant line,
Horizon’s veil for eyes
That would have stayed on ship’s tall sail
If it were otherwise.

By day, we work; we tend the home;
The children learn and play.
But like a sentinel on watch,
We eye the empty bay.

At night, the sea wind softly sighs;
The waves break on the shore.
And if we wake, we turn to take
A look for lights once more.

We knew the need; we recognized
That this lot had to be.
But waiting’s not made easier
By studied urgency.

The ship may be beset by storms;
The crew may suffer thirst;
A foe may suddenly appear;
By calm, ship could be cursed.

But if their weather’s foul or fair,
Ours is a gloomy sky
That hangs low on us like a weight
As days go slowly by.

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photo by Janet Beasley at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mXpqXKs/Sunsets

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.