Now the clocks have changed, it’s getting lighter in the evenings. So that got me thinking about the word ‘light’. It can mean so many different things. A lightness in feeling, lightweight, a light bulb moment, daylight, sunlight, twilight, artificial light, on and on it goes. What does it mean to you? Or perhaps it’s sparked a story or poem. So your prompt this week is
LIGHT
I always enjoy seeing what you come up with if the prompt gives you inspiration, but there’s no obligation to share your writing. Here is the work you shared on the last prompt WAITING.
I can think of several things waiting means to me, and not just for appointments to actually arrive, but to be seen once you’ve been given a date.
Too often we have been kept waiting, once at the vet for well over an hour and when we reminded the receptionist we were there, she implied there had been an emergency, no naturally we didn’t make a fuss. That ’emergency’ turned out to be a stock take, and the vet we were booked in to see had simply forgotten us. We were not impressed, and didn’t stay with that practice.
At Hubby’s appointment with the haematologist last year, we were kept waiting almost an hour, only to not be able to understand what he was saying other that he didn’t know why we were there.
I expect everyone has heard of Rainbow Bridge, the place where our beloved pets go when they pass away and wait for us to join them when our time comes.
I’m a believer in that, and when my time comes, I wish to be cremated wearing my dad’s cardy with the pockets full of dog biscuits.
But what about the other way, when the owner passes first and waits for their four legged companion to join them?
Our friend passed away two days before Christmas 2020 and her dog was taken in by mutual friends who live opposite us. Had they not, we would have taken her as she was not a young dog. She enjoyed walks along the beach and through the park every day, but in a few months her health deteriorated and on a Bank Holiday Monday 2021, she was taken to the vet for the last time.
Now I see these two souls having been united, walking side by side as they always did when we first came here. RIP.
Christine Mallaband-Brown:
I was waiting and waiting for the summer holidays to come. I remember being about 11, we had recently moved house and I was at a new school. We had a real garden, trees to climb, a swing and seesaw that dad had put up and I wanted to explore the area. My new friends and I would find new places to visit, the local arboretum, canals and the far end of the Broadway where my uncle and aunt lived. I was getting old enough to walk a few miles, or cycle around country lanes to go to parks for picnics. Those few weeks were really worth waiting for, everything seemed more colourful, exciting adventures like jumping across the local brook, or trying to collect insects. As I tried to balance on walls or climb up into the laburnum tree I was learning about the environment. At the end of the holidays I decided to get more interested in nature and was made a tree warden at school. That holiday was worth waiting for.
As I sit here waiting and waiting for things to load, for time to pass and for my brain to shift into gear, I close my eyes sit back in my chair and just wait.
“Don’t tell me again, that I just have to wait. I hate waiting!” she sighed.
Nowadays children are not used to not get an answer right away, to not be able to talk to and see their friends anytime they like. Chats, smartphones, tablets – they hardly ever write full sentences or only talk on the phone. No, it is always a video call or at least some pictures are (emojis and GIFs) included. And everything is happening in real time.
And then there was this teacher, who decided that having real pen pals would be a nice idea for her class. How to send a letter with envelope and stamp? Children hardly see their parents do that anymore. How to wait in real time for days, even more than a whole week for an answer?
Everything digital, at the tip of your finger, seems to be normal nowadays, but I feel a little bit like I felt as a kid in the 80ies when I hear my daughter suffering from having to be patient and the future of everything now was still in a far away future – and it feels slow, but good.
Nicola Daly:
My dog tells me it’s a hard life being a starving black lab – always waiting to be fed!
Waiting
The candle flickers, melting away time I can’t reclaim. Silverware untouched, water sweating against the stem of a glass, mirroring the dampness on my palm.
I glance at my watch, as if staring will make minutes move backward, as if somewhere in its ticking heart is a promise that this time she won’t be late.
But she is always late.
She says it’s never on purpose, blames traffic, a misplaced key, a last-minute phone call. Excuses wrapped in silk, soft but suffocating.
The waiter hovers, polite in his pity. Would I like to order? No. I will wait, because I always do.
The room is full, chandeliers sparkling like stars, couples leaning in, hands brushing over linen and laughter. I should be one of them. Instead, I sit alone, anger curled in my throat like unswallowed words.
Then she arrives, breathless, apologetic, her enigmatic smile will be her weapon — a gentle disarmament of my rage. She will take my hand, wink, and call me impatient, ask what’s good on the menu.
And I will forgive her.
Again.
Waiting
daylight grows shorter
my lonely heart’s heavier,
waiting, for winter.
how long has it been
since summer abandoned love;
behind ’till last spring?
oh, dear please don’t go,
never allow love flew, like
geese in September.
if snowflakes don’t fall,
winter’s gonna be on stall;
frozen my heart thee.
love me like summer,
hot, passionate and intense:
better than Shakespeare’s.
leaves fall tenderly
autumn, as i fell for you –
on bended knees, earnestly.
A Life of Waiting
I have spent much of my life waiting. I believe that we all spend much more time waiting than we realize.
When we are young, we can’t wait to be grown up. When we are grown up, we work hard and wait for success. We cannot wait to fall in love. Some people wait a long time before they get married. If we have children, when they are little we wait for them to get old enough that we can actually get some sleep. When they get older, we wait anxiously to see what kind of people they will become. And when they leave home, we sit and wait for them to come back and visit us.
When I am at work, I wait for 4:00 to come, so I can leave. I wait for payday to come. I wait for an opportunity to take vacation time. I wait for the holidays. I wait in the traffic, trying to get home.
When you think about the word waiting, it brings to mind someone sitting quietly, waiting for something to happen, or for someone to arrive. Waiting can be passive. But waiting can also be active, like when you are waiting for your dinner to be done, but you’re the one preparing it. Or you’re waiting for the dog to do its business, but you are the one walking it. While waiting at the airport, for example, you are busy watching people passing by, thinking about your upcoming flight and your destination, planning what you will do during your layover.
There have been times in my life when I wasn’t sure what to do. Times when I needed to make a decision, but I wasn’t certain what the right decision was. During those times, I spent a lot of time in prayer, and waited to see if I felt led in a certain direction. I was waiting on God, but I had to go on living my life, and sometimes when it was time to make the decision I just had to make the best decision I could, knowing that God would still be with me.
I realize that I don’t know very much about waiting. It is much more prevalent in my life than I had considered. I believe I could be more productive in my waiting times, by organizing my thoughts or praying or just trying to clear my head.
Ghost Tram:
I’m on my way to Manchester
I’m going by the tram
Heading for a pasta place
Serving more than tasty Spam
I saw an Outward tram appear
heading for the BBC
And looked forward to its appearance
on its way to Piccadilly
The station announced – 6 Minutes
for the piccadilly tram – the norm
but the time it passed much quicker
and i felt all fuzzy and warm
But then – the clouds in distance
appeared in patchwork grey
as station board announced
an abrupt delay
A coach was picking us up
As the tram was not yet seen
Colours of Heritage Salford
Gold and Olive Green
And passengers all smiled
and some they even cheered
as inspectors went looking for the missing tram
its disappearance – weird
In the waiting room
There is solidarity is the waiting room. No one wants to be there. Everyone is waiting for news. People smile sympathy at each other, as if it were a tangible item to be gifted. The walls are shiny white. So white they’re almost blinding. The smell of disinfectant lingers, it’s tones acrid and bitter. An attempt to eliminate the stench of anxiety, overripe, like rotting fruit. The combination forces acid bile up my throat. It burns. The hustle and bustle of the hospital is distant and muted in the waiting room. There are no distractions. I sit and unwanted memories come. Memories of other, similar waits. So many. More than I can count on both hands and feet, twice over.
Waiting room prison
Full of memory felons
Will he live or die
***
Esther Chilton 
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