i dream again of a new-soul star
made of the same dust
as these two-ones, and
the pearly newness of
a freshly-made life,
with eyes of green, as yet unseen.
already, beside the calm-blue waters
one waits, hand-made and still,
having not yet crashed through the cosmic firmament
but ready, when the time is right,
to fly on eagle’s wings,
through the stars and heavenlight
into these waiting arms.
The Oaxacaborn Blog 
I love your poems. Waiting is hard. It feels like it will never happen. But that’s not true. What’s true is that God is also waiting until the time is ripe/right to bless your socks off. Joy to you while you wait.
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love this.
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