Wait For Me


I spoke the lexis of life, I spoke healing.
I cried and the stars became my tears.
I touched you tender and you softly sighed,
I prayed down the mountains, yet still you died.

Did I fail from within my simple heart?
Or was my faith too shallow to conquer the dark?
Did I just not wholly and truly believe?
Or was it just preordained that your spirit take leave?

I to this I think not to truly understand,
and perhaps the separations of secrets does not lie within our hand.
Therefore in the stillness of memories that come my way,
I ask but that you wait for me just inside the Eastern Gate.

J. Allen Wilson © Ten 2006