I (Too) Am Waiting

 I (too) am waiting

My thanks to Lawrence Ferlinghetti for fifty years of inspiration.

I am waiting for the last meme to be made with invisible ink

So that we face a beautiful block of color with a question

and I am waiting for the political machine to break down

For the rusted cogs to shatter and leave us bereft 

I am waiting for the mechanic to tell us we don’t need 

a machine to treat other people right I am waiting

To see if anyone will miss the machine and begin anew

Dancing with everyone where anyone can dance and

I am waiting for a rebirth of love

I am waiting for the end of a pandemic that does not

Leave all of us dead I am waiting for that super clean 

Magic machine that will clean the air and make it safe 

To breathe I am waiting for the Doctor to arrive and 

Be accorded all of the respect he deserves and I am

Waiting for the twisted schemers be assigned off planet work

Scrubbing asteroids into shiny mirrors so they can 

See themselves as they really are and

I am waiting for a rebirth of love

I am waiting to walk across the Millennium Bridge

Or perhaps travel by bicycle in search of Vera to ask her

About the maker of her mackintosh I am waiting

For a restoration of personal tolerance 

Where “we hold these truths to be self-evident”

Becomes a secular scripture I am waiting

For my cat to sing out and shout that she is

Waiting for a rebirth of love

I am waiting for the bright green leaves to 

Turn brown and a rebirth of Fall I am waiting

For the roads to be washed clean under the

Tropical deluge and I am waiting for the super

Shopper to complete the order and deliver to 

The needy to those in need to those in want

Basic necessities for everyone in need and 

Everyone in want and I am still

waiting for a rebirth of love

I am waiting for the sand to run out of time

While we discard our calendars and embrace

The solitary Sun the shadow and the dial 

Which in ever turning splendor attends to

The day and I am waiting for the moment to

Return to the forefront as we discard tweets

And texts and emails while embracing the

Heartbeat the breath the footstep and

I am waiting for a rebirth of love 

I am waiting for the realization that we are until

We are not to shake the bones raise the shoulders

And splinter false feet that reinforce our expectations

Of our entitlement our economy of private justice 

Our immortality of our intimations

For I am awaiting the cold wind on a blustery day

To sweep the streets clear of insidious intent and I am

Eternally and faithfully and constantly 

Waiting for a rebirth of love

Rod Scott

(C) 2020