I wait in my cell.

Are you the one…

The earth’s turn throws sun’s beams
on the wall.

Sifted through the bars, ray-spokes crawl,
climbing rungs pinwheeling across the ceiling.

I count them, finger them,
alternating, light and dark.

You love me, you will never love me;
you love me, you will never….

I smile. A sad thing.

If you are the one, I lose heart, waiting.
Or by the time I find you’re not the one, I’ll have lost my mind.

If I never know, I’ll always lose
again each day, wonder in place.

If you aren’t the one, I can unlock the door,                                                                                         wander away.

Look for someone else.

If you are the one…how much longer must I stay?

At least Messiah sent his Messenger a word.
A word of hope, a word of grace.

A witness.

You’ve sent me a curse.
A word of spurning.
Of piercing.

Perhaps this is the key I hold in my hand,
your note.

Unless a trick, a dagger –
a devil’s dodge sent to stagger me—

Still.

Each day I feel I must wait,
just one more.