Waiting Poem by Diké Alozie

The cold splash of the breaking wave, heaves salty reminders of our trials too bare.
And the cobbled shores once rearranged, lay prone to slide again with the coming tide.
Its clockwork pushed by hands supreme, and in its wake content to glean or wean.
Wait distils a more suspended state, where time and motion are no longer but a distant sore.
Sketchy trailers fixed to the mind in brazen flight, are then stilled to mounds of colored stone;
They settle to weigh and balance on a delicate fabric, stretching strands to hopeful limits.
Numbed ……..