the eternal waiter
the sun descends down the western horizon.
the bleating lambs,baying cattle
and chirping birds return home.
on the solitary banks of the stream
whose blue water is crimson
by the parting kiss of the dusk
i sit alone,waiting.
waiting for the night to advance!
for the day to emerge from the womb of the night.
for whom do i wait?
does he knows i am waiting?
perhaps life is an eternal wait,an endless waiting.