We Wait

Most say Promise is held by the dawn and no doubt he is, but I’ve always found him at dusk, waiting. He and hope embracing and waiting. Something about finding him, after he’s weathered the storm, weathered the day, weathered the… weather, makes me want to trust him. Makes me believe that he’ll be there tomorrow. Yes, Promise will be there in the morning, and he’ll be true, because tonight he’s here, in the dusk of the day, holding hope and waiting. Perhaps, waiting for me to hold him too or let him hold me. Perhaps waiting, just so I don’t have to wait alone. And so we do, he and I and hope, we wait.