I’m sitting here because I’m waiting for you
On a square box stool underneath, and everywhere
You’re there, fair, quaint and splendid, I see
Where blinks atop lighthouse swivels to twinkle
Sign of how to reach you
Sign that I’m far off, away and set apart
Its endless, the abyss that cuts us off
Calmness here is cold, so I warm myself with thoughts of you

Fingers file to base just to while away time
The actor, me, divides attention, wavering between faith and doubt
Between you and the passing preoccupation
The comfort of dull sameness, fire growing ever more heated
The uncertainty of rocky voyages on troubled seas, calming unto eternal bliss
My fingers are neat, but the blink still persists

I’m sitting here, thinking about moving
The other side seems fine, but I’m not convinced
I conjure up defensive walls to fend off giving in
My rational sitting box makes me see you’re not there
Its fine, its my only possession
Its fine, but its wobbly and shortened
I’m sitting on the floor, I’m not standing
I don’t want to sit, but I cannot stand

I’m taken away in meditations on you
Swimming, maybe conveyed by revelation
Conscious, still in clear mind, it happens upon me
Is it I who finds out that cul-de-sac is needless?
I’m awake, I’m on the other side
You’ve led me, you’ve given me new eyes