Waiting Patiently

There’s a plot of land
Somewhere
Just three feet wide
Seven long
Six deep
Waiting to embrace me.

Populated by weeds
And earthworms
The loam is damp
And cold
Black as eternal night
Firm as the hope of heaven.

Let it be on a hill
Looking over a river
Within the call
Of a coal train
Beneath the patrol
Of a brown hawk.

Let it be near
Leaning stones
Marking the bones
Of those
Who went before
Able to point the way.

Let the wind sigh above me
That I might mistake it
For grieving moans
For the wail
Of a lover’s lonesome
Call.

It’s been waiting for me
Patiently.
Knows I am coming
Slowly, reluctantly
But surely
Moving into its grasp.