Poem of the Week: The Waiting Game

There are days that I can sit and while away the hours, but at the moment I’ve been feeling despondent about waiting. Waiting for a change, for a chance to do the things I need or want to do. I feel like there are many of us in the same boat for whatever reason.

My reasons are multitude. My feelings of being in limbo have been bobbing and flowing for months, and while I know I’ve done a fair bit this past year – from March 2020 to now – it still doesn’t deflect the idea that we’re still in a waiting game. For some, it’s waiting for the vaccine, while others may be waiting for lockdown to ease so they can get much-needed housework done. Some of us may be waiting for other reasons, and I’m sure the feeling of listlessness around it is mutual.

I personally am waiting to hear back from an interview. The results could change everything – what I do for the rest of my life. That’s what’s scary. Is it the right thing? The right time? I don’t know the answers to that. I believe everything happens for a reason, a reason that I cannot comprehend until I look back. I’ve been through some turbulent times trying to delve deeper into that aspect, and now I’m out the other side all I want to do is act, to live in the present reality and enjoy it. But it’s tough when you’re waiting for an answer.

This week’s poem is all about waiting. The uncertain feelings that surround it, and the hope that glimmers in the distance. I hope you like it.

The Waiting Game

It’s a task this waiting
I don’t know if I’m ready
But here I stay or go
On a whim of being me.

How can I say I’m alive
If I forego this opportunity
Is there any sense in just
Whisking myself off to sea.

I listen to the words inside
I hear that a change is coming
It stands abreast of the breeze
And I swear I hear it singing.

My life so far is not tragic
It’s filled with challenge and change
Some days I barely see it
While others I find strange.

I’ve waited here long enough
I just want to walk the path
The road that’s all my own
Wrought with light and wrath.

Every step forwards is a journey
But I feel I’m stuck in place
Listening, expecting a sign
But I now know it’s not a race.

The finish line is far from my gaze
And I’m glad of the road ahead
It’s sometimes all a waiting game
A trial of errors instead.

I’ve taken my fair share of pit stops
Trying new things each day
Another journey lies ahead
A path that I’ll walk, come what may.

The waiting game is almost over
I may not expect the outcome
But every moment is ours to take
As we walk together into the sun.


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