Ed Note: From Blog reader John today on the HH daily. Many readers commented on this poem at our Labor Day Sale and asked if I had read it. Yes, I did. Loved it just as much as they did. Thought I better post it for those who do not read the comments, but most do as we have found out! So hear you are readers, a poem appropriate for the Mo, for this holiday and the local rain, and for your fly fishing souls…don’t wait any longer to read this fantastic poem!

I Wait

Sitting on the edge of trout stream I am waiting…

The color of the blue sky mirrors my wife’s concerning eyes radiating compassion, concern and kindness…

The quietude broken by a speech, perhaps lecture, being given by a blackbird wearing its Sunday orange vest…

I feel the warmth of the spring sun spreading over my aches which come from 53 years of simply being…not to be outdone, the blowing breath of wind sends small seeds, tufts of grass, and a yellow mustard colored flower into the timeless run of water my eyes are drawn to like a young child spying a candy colored apple in a storefront window…



And I wait

The water as always is the draw the thing, the captivating object of my child like attention… how does something so clear hide from sight the living jewels within it…

And I wait

Minutes run together, then an hour becomes two …

And yet I wait

The scene remains set with only the visiting formation of clouds now framing my picture having changed; all else remains constant

And I wait

Suddenly I realize “it” has happened, as it always does, and my wait is over…

It floods over me like a friendly virus making contact without notice silently taking hold without my ability to note its initial presence…

My fears, my thoughts, my concerns past and present, they are all lifted from me… they are not taken they are not suppressed nor diminished in their context of importance , intensity or ability to paralyze me, they are simply lifted from me and replaced with the peace and calm of nothingness…

The voices of the birds ring louder, the octaves from the riffle in front of me turned up and I hear the impact of those hidden jewels breaking the surface of rushing water…


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