The Waiting Room
And so I stand here.
People wait their turn, fill
out forms, check boxes,
all trying to understand the rules.
And there are the ones that help
to pass a pencil here, a clipboard there.
Maybe, they know something.
I step into the shaft of pure Light
pouring over me like
a Christmas tree giving a present.
Right there in the middle of the waiting room,
in front of everyone.
And no one joins in.
No one even sees.
I wonder...isn’t this why they
wait here and fill these forms, listen for
their number to be called?
Oh the delight of this
brilliant pure Light.
No one steps in.
So I silently help them dot
the i(s) and cross the t(s),
so intent on perfection,
beautiful handwriting, perfectly designed forms.
I watch them in the waiting room,
Now the anticipation starts to grow,
Silence replaced with murmur and rustling.
The makeup goes on, and someone
is wearing just the perfect shade of blue!
The musician plays yet another amazing tune.
I stand here watching.
Now the atmosphere changes,
I am told I do not get it,
the importance of it all!
The One, the teacher that knows,
He is coming.
Let’s look the best, sound the best!
Only the best for Him.
The Night goes on and nothing.
I glance at a treasured picture of the One.
Not even on the upper floor,
he is nowhere.
The distress is in the air.
What a predicament.
People gather and speak of solutions.
Nobody is leaving.
As the thrill fades,
a sense of gloom replaces it. Confused eyes
looking all around
Then looking down.
Enough of watching.
I wonder… would two or three
come with me,
ready to move on,
ready to greet the Dawn?
I raise my hand and offer
“Would anyone like to get out of here?”
Oh the stares I get,
And so I go.
Such delight to move freely.
The trees are tall, lining an open road.
Air brushing against my skin,
The whole landscape filled with Light,
And somewhere, in the distance, their voices
echo in importance.
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