Open to everything happy & sad,Seeing the good when it's all going bad,Seeing the sun when I can't really see,Hoping the sun will at least look at me

Today is a dangling sort of day. I am waiting for so many things to happen simultaneously that I really don't know where to start. There are things that I need to do, things that I am waiting for...people, events, moods, moments--it's a kaleidescope of expectancy. Pregnant. Poignant. Weighed down.

Sometimes I feel this wait will never end. There are times when I can sense that things are happening. Feel the motions of the journey. My work, my family, my friends, my growing universe. And then there are times when I don't notice the pace. When every day is exactly the same. Boring. Listless. Uneventful. Or strenuous, stressful, disturbing. I hate the uniformity, hate the unalleviating linearity of things as they are. I know that the truth is that they are actually happening. But it isn't always enough.

So what, then, am I looking for? Why is there always a longing for the things to come even when the present is right there in front of my eyes? Why do I always know in the middle of extreme happiness or defeat, that this too shall not last? That there's more to come.

This unsatiable longing will be the death of me some day.