Waiting...

There have been some questions, some grievances and even some threats about explaining what the hell the poem under the title of this blog means. I thought the poem was famous, but as I now realize, it is not so famous in my friend circle. After a heart-wrenching cry from my MS dude friend Ashish to explain what it means, I decided to shine some light on this.

First I should say that the poem is "Waiting" by John Burroughs and for any of you who thought that this was by me, I can only fold my hands serenely and say "Thenkew, very flattered...". I am not qualified to really explain what this poem means, so I thought I would just give the entire poem here and that would quell at least some questions :) Its a beautiful peace of work, pure pleasure! Take it away!!

Waiting - By John Burroughs


Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst Time or Fate,
For lo! My own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways
And what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.

The waters know their own, and draw
The brook that springs in yonder heights;
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delights.

The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave comes to the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.