Wanting

I based this bit of free-verse poetry on Song of Solomon 8:4 (“Promise me, O women of Jerusalem, not to awaken love until the time is right.”). I’m not quite sure about this title just yet, so comment and give me some of your ideas!

Wanting

A silent heart sleeps quietly

Once upon its memories of never-gained love

The heart longs to find its place in the heaven-meadows

But must wait till it is awakened

Till called from its conscious slumber

 

Though it lies there dormant

In the Asphodelian twilight

Its pulsing warmth still is there beneath

‘Tis not merely extant, oh no, ‘tis very much alive!

Alive, conscious, quietly resonant with hope

But waiting nonetheless…

 

How the heart, it longs to be stirred, how it is wanting to be found

Found perfect and complete

A vision for another’s sight

Called from the dusk into an infant dawn

 

Copyright © Bethany Richardson 2012

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