The Window

Standing patiently outside my window- he waits.
His silvery caresses enter my room,
But he watches from afar-
Ever patient; ever pleasant;
Expecting nothing.

And I wait impatiently;
Trapped within my window.
Someday he will demand I bring him in…
Someday he will grow impatient like me…

I wait that someday he may want more than this fraction;
I wait that someday he may wish to see me whole.
But he makes no demands.
Tomorrow, he will come again.
Unfailingly.
And he will stand outside.
Unattachedly.

I know that the day he enters- he will fill up my existence-
Suffocate me even.
But I invite the encroachment.
For then, he will be mine.
The weight of expectations is much easier to balance
Than the suspended state of artificial equilibrium.