The Arrival

like swans on a lake, it arrives
unexpectedly
and takes with it my breath

I find myself at times, so desperate
I will it to come
the great exhilaration
the thrill of it all

but I suppose
the joy is in the waiting
in the teasing of my patience

for in the underwhelm
at the edge
at the turn of my head
a distant trumpet calls

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Is it procrastination or divine timing?

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Ripples, Waves, a Hurricane