Standing still
familiar forces
rushing, peripheral
the rage of nature in surging water
faces fly by
and strange tendrils tempt
something deeper
as they pass
there is nothing that can reach
this empty craving
the quest for contact
suspended
in a desert of impatience
observing the green shoots of progress
bursting into life
but only for them.
The agony of standing still
is watching
waiting
expecting
a million impossibilities
offered in change
always invisible, incremental
but never opening hope
never a bright revelation
just more time
another hour
day, week, month, year
in stationary solitude.