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Patience

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I'm bored of waiting my turn. 
I'm tired of standing in line. 
I've been doing the same thing every day and hoping for different results, and that's the definition of insanity right?
we wish we wish upon the stars and we blow out the candles and we blow away the eyelashes and we watch the clock, waiting for that magical moment when the numbers all align and we believe that somehow, somewhere, someone is watching us all make our silly little wishes for world peace, or for that person to finally notice us, or that we pass our math test. in that moment, reason flies out of the window past the windowsill where our clock is perched, where the wind whisks away our eyelashes and carries our wishes along with it. we hold our breath and wait for the wish to come true, praying that just this once someone was listening but who could be listening? is it our parents with their ears pressed to the wall? could it be the birds perched in the trees, talking to each other in a melodic language that only they understand? maybe it's the leaves that rustle as our wishes pass through them, or the chimes that jingle in the breeze. no one knows who notices them, no one knows who's paying attention and no one knows who's listening so we all just wait. we wait and we wish.




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