a reflection on moving during a pandemic
Waiting
For the new thing to start.
For friendships
That smell like fresh coffee and pastries,
For living into a new job
That feels like stepping
From a rocking boat onto solid ground—
Legs shaking from the memory of rocky waves,
But heart calm knowing the ground is once again solid.
Waiting
For unpacking trunks and boxes
And rediscovering cherished belongings—
Like pop rocks crackling and fizzing on the tongue
And rushing forth memories, smells and sounds from the past.
Waiting
For the faces on the screen to take on shape,
As stories, memories and experiences
Replace names in the bottom left corner,
“connecting to audio…” and “you’re on mute.”
Like pages from a yearbook
Coming alive with celebrations, stories, and inside jokes.
Waiting
For the dream of adventure
And challenge
That compelled me to send a letter,
Sign a contract, and
Make a decision
To finally take shape.
Waiting
For the memories and tears to take their place–
Not to disappear, but
Just to scoot to the back
As the songs of “goodbye,” “we’ll miss you” and “stay in touch”
Blend in with new notes of “Welcome!” “Nice to meet you” and “We’re glad you’re here.”
Waiting
For the route to the coffee shop to be familiar,
Because this is where I go on Tuesdays;
For the friendly clerk who knows my order
Because I’ve been here before;
For the chance to turn the GPS off
Because I know how to get home from here.
Waiting
for the new thing to become the current thing,
The current thing to become the previous thing,
And the previous thing to become the “Remember the time” thing.
Waiting
To know that life is moving again—
Like water rushing past the last muddy twigs of a child’s dam
In the river.
Waiting.