Waiting

It’s painful to sit

and wait for nothing

to happen

just sitting and holding

a pen and looking

at a blank page

listening to your breath

flow in and out—

sigh—

and feeling your

heartbeat

aware of each blink

of an eyelid,

each second that passes

without a word

to break the silence.

It’s painful to sit

and wait for nothing

to happen.

When will you realize

that whatever happens

is invisible, hidden

from sight,

and that words

will rise to the surface

whether you’re asleep

or awake, waiting or not?

Look -- all the time

you thought you were

staring at a blank page, 

and now? 

How do you

explain the words

that appeared beneath

your pen when you

weren’t looking?

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