How long? How long? I drag my voice.
I cling, I waiver, I thirst, I desire –
My spirit shall rejoice.
In silence, in hum of background noise,
I stretch my neck from familiar mire –
How long? How long? I unravel voice.
The wait, the weight of hidden joys,
When all my sky clouds round and gyres –
My spirit shall rejoice.
Expectancy grows numb. Life silences choice.
Better to shake, better to blaze on fire.
How long? How long? I unfurl my voice.
Complacency leadens; I wave but cannot hoist.
Yet what is lost? the dove’s coo enquires.
Can the spirit still rejoice?
The soul’s pivot; heaviness gathers poise.
Let anchored hope never expire.
How long? How long? Lift high your voice.
My spirit, my spirit shall rejoice.
The Consolations of Writing 