Waiting to Awaken: Poetry

Waiting to Awaken

 I glide through my days
as I did in childhood dreams:
With arms at my sides and
eyes wide yet unfocused,
floating aimlessly
over everyone's heads and
wondering where I might land.

Seldom did I feel a part of
the bustle around me then,
in those recurring night flights;
as I feel detached now, too, in
my grown-up world.

I hold my breath as I hover,
looking down upon my life and
the people reaching into it.

I sense the sorrow and
yearning in my lover's
questioning gaze as I
float just beyond his grasp.
I see urgency in the
eyes of my children
as they hold their hands out
for mine, begging me to anchor.

Yet, despite the claims upon
my heart they each truly own,
I cannot bring myself to
come down from the safety of
this lofty plane that I've created
and floundered in for so long now.
I'm not sure I remember how -- or
if I ever knew, even in my
little girl dreams.
I think I simply
waited to wake up.

I think I'm doing it
still.