Let it be said
are what will
This is purgatory.
life has both ended and not yet begun.
the sun is gone, but winter is still not here.
Give me the rain; the cold; the gray.
give me the weight of the day, pressing on my chest.
but please, please make the waiting end.
Make the in-between turn into a destination
for this Journey is not enjoyable.
What do you do? they ask.
I’m a cook by vocation,
a therapist by my heart’s calling,
a restless soul by birth.
Waiting… floating… longing for land
wishing for my feet to take root