The Waiting

Gustav Klimt, detail of 'The Waiting'

And if I fall,

The same ground against which I crash

Will push me back afloat.

And if I cry,

Waves of tears will wash my soul,

So I can paint it back from scratch

In bolder tones.

And if I hurt,

The pain will remind me

One more day, that I am alive,

Ready to bare-knuckle box

Frustration.

And if I’m ripped apart

All-healing hands will nurse my wounds

And recompose this puzzled body

Kiss by kiss.

And if I cease to be

There will be nothing to shiver for,

Nothing to strive for,

No delusion, no belief tiptoeing

This imperceptible wire of hope.

And if I love,

And love well,

And if I am loved back in return

There will be warmth,

And comfort,

To help endure

The waiting.