The night presses
on and all I have
in my hands is
a bowl of noodle
soup.
Accomplishment and
disappointments
blur at this time
of the evening.
All that is clear
to me
is the steaming
bowl, the state
of waiting.
I have the soup,
the noodles,
the entirety
of the moment.
I let myself wait
and feel the
passing of
time.
I help myself
to peace
of mind.
(October 9, 2009)
