Anna Waits {a poem}

A very long obedience in the same direction.

Broad Street Baptist Church window, NOLA, 2009 j.l.collins

Anna Waits

She stands next to Simeon,

widow with a word,

forthtelling of coming light.

There was nothing else
calling her name but His
across the years like an
echo from The Garden
so long ago.

She’d been seeking
(was He hiding?)
for what else was her
life but this–an
always looking
in the temple courts,
trusting the doorway
would be darkened some

Day when Light came

in the room.

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