wait.

[onlyjustwhisper]

(This is one of my very favourite poems, thanks to wizened_cynic, who introduced me to it. I want to talk a little bit about it, but not tonight. I ask you guys on my flist to read it, simply because it is so incredible and I want to know what you think. I will probably make a more coherent explanation of why I like it at some point, but for now this will have to be enough. Enjoy it, absorb it, feel it. The words are beautiful.)

Wait

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.

Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.

~Galway Kinnell