We wait, not knowing what we are waiting for.
Quiet morning air with birds commencing their chatter.
Distant low traffic rumble.
Cool air soon to be pushed out by hot summer winds.
But for now, we wait and we don't know why.
We desire to be busy at a task, but afraid to begin.
Will we get a phone call to drop everything?
Sleep may be interrupted, so we sit in a haze.
Some can sleep, but we can't.
The waiting hangs heavy.
I think of other times of waiting, but this isn't my family.
It wasn't so far away.
I sat in hospital rooms, but not right now.
I think I should be there with a scared, lonely man.
He is sedated, we're told, and that's OK.
Rest is needed.
It's not my call, but then is it ever?