I sometimes wonder

what I’m waiting for

it’s been a lot of years

sitting around in silence

looking out windows

staring at walls.

I could almost count

the slats in my woodwork

with my eyes closed

so many years.

I wonder sometimes,

what I’m waiting for

is it some sort of miracle

no, I’ve experienced those.

Not as simple as that,

it’s a deeper leverl

of personal reckoning,

The chance to evolve

sometimes occurs

but the idea of scrutiny

scares away the possibility

I sometimes wander

letting my mind wonder.