Vaughn Wood

(November 15 / San Rafael, CA)

The Wait Kills The Man


The wait kills the man;
A necessary death nonetheless,
Leaving him unanswered,
Sensationally demised.

Knees buckled, hands firmly pressed;
Head resting on Sovereign’s breast.
Prayers whispered in uncertainty,
Calmly neutralized.

The wait appears to be a far voyage at sea
Where wind and wave rebut willingly;
The deep ready to drown discernment,
Significantly ill-advised.

One whimsical decision can create a new route;
A fool’s destination is the Isle of Doubt.
But the wait leaves one wanting,
Overwhelmingly unsatisfied.

If only one could travel through time,
This wait would be preventable;
All would be sure and fully comprehendible,
Thoroughly realized.

The unknown torments an impatient man at night;
A restless thought taking flight, but nowhere to land.
Waiting for wisdom to take his hand,
Calmly terrified.
Silence remains, but no rest…

The wait kills the man;
A necessary yet enduring distraction,
Leaving him famished for further instruction,
Wholly discombobulated.

Submitted: Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Edited: Friday, January 24, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Much of my life has been in the fast lane, pushing and pulling possible endeavors up hill, most of which succeeded. The failures are tough to process, especially when they are extremely personal and relational. Some failures leave us paralyzed with no choice but to contemplate for a season and reboot emotionally, physically, spiritually and mentally. It's tough to make such an excursion poetic, but I tried. The attempt was therapeutic, and to be honest, upon completion of this poem I had the best night sleep in awhile. Waiting time is not wasted time.

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