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Haiku Free Verse Prosies
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Between the opening of the gates and the closing of the gates,
I wait.
Gathering flowers in unshepherded fields,
I wait.
In a Babylon of self-control,
I wait.
In the marketplace, covered with grease
and the cries of the merchants,
I wait.
Between tables and chairs,
I wait.
Underneath mountains,
I wait.
Behind a desk,
I wait.
And in my bed each night,
I wait.
I am waiting for my eyes to open.
I am waiting to take flight over the hills,
to see those hills from above like new,
and somehow remembered:
the rocks peeping through grass,
scrawny trees,
and the figures of my loved ones, waving,
tinier than sprinkles on a cupcake.
I have been waiting my whole life, and will wait
into the next one. Each turn of the Wheel,
I wait, and wait
until the day I realize
there is nothing left to wait for.
On that day, my wings will open like the eyes of a child.
Lifted, I'll forget what it meant
to wait
I'll forget all the weights of the earth,
remembering that other thing I forgot
in the absence of flight.
— Frances Donovan
May 2000
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