When can we stop for a break
She asks
When we are neither
Here or there
I reply
What a curious riddle
Perhaps it means
In the middle
Our feet are tired and dusty
Our heads throb
In the heat
We have been walking
And pacing
For far too long
Round and round in circles
She sings
In a way it is soothing
Like following a pattern
Or singing the chorus
Of a song
I like singing
She whispers
Taps the toes
Of her shiny shoes together
Her hand reaches for mine
And I stroke her tiny fingers
Let's say this is our way station
Sit down and rest
That sounds like a very fine plan indeed
We both take a deep breath
And lean into the cool walls.
That ending is so peaceful. I have had fever all night, so leaning against a cool wall with a precious one sounds very healing.
ReplyDeleteTaking time out to rest is often a wise idea. I love your last two lines especially.
ReplyDeleteSuch a soul satisfying poem, mysterious too .. ‘ When we are neither here or there’ captured my heart.
ReplyDeleteAaaahhhh...
ReplyDeleteI felt the relief of stopping pacing and resting at the way station. I like the stroking of the tiny fingers. So lovely.
ReplyDeleteWhat a comforting scene
ReplyDeleteHappy Wednesday
Much💜love
So nice to think of establishing one's own way station whenever you've a desire for being neither here nor there!
ReplyDeleteI love resting as the way station. “Stop and smell the roses” is always a good idea. Too many moving too quickly.
ReplyDeleteI love what Bev said and your ending it perfect.
ReplyDeleteWay stations often present themselves to us in unexpected, or even ordinary, places. I like the image of a cool wall being a way station.
ReplyDelete