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Sunday, December 9, 2012


Beneath a crystalline, moonless, December sky, with his collar up and head down, he walked into the wind—his hands buried deep in the pockets of his faded blue coat His boots broke the frozen path, offering the darkness a deep, hollow crunch.

Wisps of condensation gave witness to the whispered words he softly cast into the night.

 “Oh, how I have waited for you. I have waited so very, very long. I have waited through the warm, wet days of summer, and through the glacial squalls of winter. I have waited on my knees—I’ve waited in my heart and I’ve waited through my tears.

“Waiting for you, I’ve learned to silently serve patience.

“I was waiting for you before I met you, and wait even until today. For you, I will wait beyond all tomorrow’s tomorrows.

“I will wait until there is no longer a me, until there is no longer a you.

“I will wait, patiently and quietly, until there is only an us.”

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