I don\u2019t want to hurry.
\nWho would I be meeting?
\nThe frost outside?
\nThe sun before its first yawn?
\nAn empty theatre
\nnot ready for its play?
\nI don\u2019t want to hurry.
\nA stranger with a gun?
\nGoing to work and repetition?<\/p>\n
Why must I hurry?
\nWhat is happening out in the world
\nthat isn\u2019t happening in me?
\nAm I not where the word begins?
\nIs not dawn my eyelids opening?
\nDid the universe stop
\nto let me dream?
\nI turn over in my bed.
\nI remember how to be born.
\nI watch the shadows of sleep
\nfly off to the wall.<\/p>\n
I do not have to hurry.
\nI listen to the seashore
\nof my breathing.
\nI look for my lover,
\nsomewhere else downstairs.
\nI count time
\nto the sudden burst of my heart.
\nGod took fifteen billion years
\nto tuck me to sleep,
\nto let me wake,
\nand be at peace.<\/p>\n
Why should I hurry?
\nI must be patient.
\nI must listen to the clockmaker.
\nBe kissed on my cheek
\nand turn over in my bed.
\nA few more minutes to be still.
\nTo listen to God
\ntell me a story.
\nNo hurry.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I don\u2019t want to hurry. Who would I be meeting? The frost outside? The sun before its first yawn? An empty theatre not ready for…<\/p>\n