Nose pressed against the windowpane.
I'm losing track of the scent of your promise.
The promise that once burned full and round in my nostrils.
Filling my entire soul with excitement and with expectation of arrival.
And today I sit still.
I started outpatient distracting myself with other things to do.
Even just sitting and waiting,
I started outpatient.
Even though I could not see what was next,
What I had was your promise in my heart.
Tied up tight to my belief that you've never let me down.
That you've always come through for me.
And that's where I want it to be when you return.
This time I want it to be right there,
Patiently waiting,
Full of the confident belief in your promise,
In you.
Yet,
Days of late,
I have found myself inching,
Inching,
Inching toward the window.
Then the pain,
Closer and closer.
Scooching,
Scooching,
Scooching.
Till now I'm squished and wondering if the scent I swear I still smell is actually wafting by.
Or is it my memory,
My faith,
Or a desperate wish,
Clinging and waiting?
Close your eyes now.
Drop in to that familiar place of connection,
Of refreshing,
Of sustenance.
If you haven't already,
Bring to mind what's gripping.
Grab hold of it instead.
However you need to hold it.
Breathe into it,
Hold it,
Be with it for a bit.
What is it trying to tell you?
Listen and take note.
I'll call you back.
Give some gratitude.
Mark this time.
What are you taking with you from it?
Seal it.
