WAITING

To meet on sunday
yes, waiting
with magnolia pistil in a quiet garden
the splendor of the crown
like the dress I often wear
be the color of the world

I gasp in waiting
the yellow leaves on the branches fall apart
behind the anxious forest
the smell of dry grass and burning
no phone ring
the day is at the end of saturday

Tomorrow we will wake up early
as time finding
a bright day, brighter than the moon
without thunder and rain
and what is promised
there we find loyalty