Wait for Me

On a Wednesday afternoon

I asked the sunset

not to leave me

I'm still here

and I'm scared of the dark;

but if you had to go

then go slowly

Wait for me.

I spoke to the sea:

"Slow the waves

don't wash away the sand."

I'm still here — I'm not ready

not yet.

But if you had to drag it all away

then do it carefully

Wait for me

I pleaded with the tree:

"Please don't shed your leaves

not yet — I'm still here

resting in your shade.

If you had to change,

do so one leaf at a time."

I'm still here —

wait for me.

I asked the city:

"Please don't wake up,

not yet. Rest —

let the songbird linger

If you had to rise

and shake the streets alive,

do it quietly."

I'm still here —

wait for me.

I asked my home:

"Do not close your doors,

not yet.

let my guests stay,

and my children sleep.

I don't want them to go."

I'm still here —

wait for me.

I pleaded with my body:

"Please don't age.

don't turn my hair white

and make my skin wrinkle.

I'm still here;

I still have much to carry

But if you had to grow old,

do it gently."

I'm still here —

wait for me.

I begged my heart.

"Not you", I said.

"Don't turn sour, and cynical.

Don't grow tired, and old.

I'm still here —

there is so much left,

to love, to grieve.

But if you had to,

my heart — if it's time

for you to rest,

please, do it tenderly."

I'm still here —

wait for me.

Wait for me.

Wait.