My Waiting Room Magazine

Life is a wait

It is a chance

And it is a risk

To live is to except that you are dieing

And listen to the gentle murmur of the trees

Life is standing on the rooftops

Pretending to fly away

And succeeding

Life is to soar with the birds

Living is to stop and watch the grass grow

To admire each individual blade

To be grateful that you are breathing

Living is to be thankful to be alive

Life is hearing the kind mockingbird’s call

But also listening to its message.

Life is the gentle push of gravity

To keep you on your feet.

Living is one big waiting room

It is fidgeting

Wondering when your name will be called

And when the door opens

You really wish you’d looked at that magazine.