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.
You’ve sent me a curse.
A word of spurning.
Perhaps this is the key I hold in my hand,
Unless a trick, a dagger –
a devil’s dodge sent to stagger me—
Each day I feel I must wait,
just one more.