Convergence

I expect great things, and I expect nothing.
Poised at the edge, on the cusp, sharp like broken glass,
arms spread wide to the heavens,
I wait for the most important communication of my life.
I wait for something tangible, a keepsake,
I wait for a passing breeze with God’s whisper,
I wait, perhaps, in vain.
Like a lotus, I persevere to see the sun.

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