Still Waiting

Still Waiting

 

It was a time of bangles and tambourines –

a time of freedom, when we were seventeen

We danced, barefoot, in a field

amid a jungle of wildflowers and kneeled

 

beneath a cashmere moon, joining

hearts and voices with the universe, rejoicing

 

We thought we could punch a hole in the future

and our dreams would be the mending sutures

 

And now, we still strum our guitars,

waiting for the promised avatar

 

Travelers

Travelers

 

I watch them, young people with

their backpacks and trendy clothes,

their cool hairstyles and uncomfortable shoes.

They walk through the airport with a

confidence bestowed on them by

nature. Secure in their ability to navigate

the maze of shops and signage and crowds.

I can not help wandering how they will

weather the storms that living brings or

if they too will someday join the shuffling

mass of elderly travelers, confused and hesitant.