Saturday, November 28, 2009
We stood in line for forty years,
Mourning those who did not survive the waiting;
Or see it…the Leonard Cohen concert in the United States.
We experienced new pets and presidents,
Raised families and buried some, all while waiting,
In line to see this long anticipated, Leonard Cohen Concert.
He climbed the stairs and knocked on the world’s door,
His words still true, were worth the waiting,
From this frail, spry man with mic held up by liver spots.
His songs are about faith and the future,
Though his liver spots a hint of finite life, and more waiting.
Soon after this, we are on our own rhyme and slipping time.
Thank you old skin, for the final ceremony of life;
The funerals of our best years, those we spent in waiting…
Enriched by these memories of time well spent waiting.
When Suzanne leads you to the river,
The tea and oranges still taste so right, but waiting
At the river’s banks, it is time to bid adieu, goodnight.
I guess I am very angry; exposed to your advancing age.
You were always so honest, but while we were waiting,
I danced; ignoring your words of seasons, this world, and time.