Anticipation

Anticipation presents me with a vision,

Ever present but hidden like a dream,

The promise of you presently,

But bestowed yet, in my to-be.

When I unfurl my starving limbs,

To find you there at forever last,

The constant object of my yearning,

And promised present of this past,

Will my heart sing a fleeting string of beats,

That carry on and beat too fast,

A wild measure of my relief,

Spent to its mortal last?

It pains my soul to recollect,

These predictions that I crave.

Still, I am compelled tomorrow,

In tender sorrow,

And there my mind remains.

Clinging to dreams of a coming time,

When the promises of rest are real,

And visions of your presence,

Stop toying with my mind.

Each day, I wake to find myself,

Like a child before Asherah’s tree,

Under it, a gift barred by time,

Taunting the missing you in me.

There is a day ahead when I will hold you,

And I entreat that this day will come.

Until then, I gaze into our promise,

To each set and rising sun,

Waiting, pausing, praying,

Counting them,

legion, by countless legions,

One, by one, by one.