In real time.

In real time

   I'd like to wait for you
   like a child for her parent
   like a lover at the airport
   like an old man for his family
   after a long parting

   with joy, excitement
   knowing you will soon be here
   and with you the sun
   after a long winter

   But more often I'm like
   the commuter at the station
   the parent at the school gate
   the patient in the waiting room
   which is running late

   fed up, impatient
   doubtful if you'll make it
   and not quite sure
   the waiting's worth it

   Time doesn't hang about
   these days; days full of doing
   disappear into months.
   Prayer slows it to true pace,
   lets me breathe and be,
   to find you in the waiting,
   as well as the receiving.

[c] Mary Lean