waiting game
waiting for that call
perfect storm arriving
though not as predicted
waiting for water to break
pacing unfamiliar hallways
hoping and praying for
feline to return
after one year hiatus
word spreads of vigil
held throughout the world
children chanting for peace
the fate of millions
hanging in the balance
if you could see the stars
you could see the candles
burning in the midnight wind
practicing undue restraint
you sit back in silence
waiting for that call
february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
My goodness, this is gorgeous! Completely unreal-fantastic-blowing-my-mind-captivating poetry. Wow. I love it.
This is my favorite, for some reason. It seems so profound:
“if you could see the stars
you could see the candles”
To me, this takes a labor and delivery waiting room to a surreal plane, stretching from a personal situation to the whole world, sort of looping back and forth between a man waiting for his wife to have a baby to what the whole world is going through to Jesus’s birth to who-knows-what’s-going-on surreality.
Major awesomeness, in other words.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this poem, Shawna. So glad you enjoyed this one.
this could describe your poems just as well. the waiting, the words, and finally the stars that one sees from your descriptions. lovely
Thank you for your lovely sentiments, Denise.
A perfect way to tie back that ‘call’ concept into the ending. So seamless–well done as always!
Thanks so much for visiting again and commenting on this piece, Elle.