How many phases have passed in my 47 years?
Sliced and thin
Hung... tilted precariously on it's side.
Nursery rhymes and children's books tug at my mind.
Beauty revealed.
I feel wonder rise up.
He moves and shifts upward.
His head almost tilted.
The veil pulled back only just so.
Will I see his eye?
Tonight?
Each episode new sights.
Each stage, a fresh wonder.
Half here tonight.
Only half and yet so very brilliant!
Flanked by stars that feel so distant.
He looks almost close.
If I could only just reach out.
Maybe... just maybe...
Why is this the first time I've seen,
or watched?
Why is the first time I have waited to see his brilliance each night?
Evening comes. I will and urge the sky to be clear,
longing for a sleepless vigil.
Tomorrow night, where will he be? What state will I find his face?
47 years
I have never taken the time.
I have never noticed, never seen, never watched and wondered.
Google tells me I have had 611 opportunities.
Six hundred and eleven phases I have missed.
Well, today I see. Now. I see.
This chapter... turn the page...
I will anticipate.
I will watch and wonder.
I will let the joy linger.
I will crawl up on my Father's lap and let Him read this book.
Will anyone join me?
Written May 2020
