Pale Yellow Petals

I'm waiting. But I don't know for what. Time is suspended. Interest is suspended. Ambition has taken a back seat. So has sloth. I'm simply waiting.

There is no discontent inside this void. Actually, life is more crisp. My awareness is heightened as angels scatter their hints and wisdom before my less-than-turbulent mind. I'm watching. I'm listening. I'm gathering data.

I continue my daily routine of making pretty things. I thrill at the sight of rainbows, 2 days in a row, on my drive home. I marvel at a profusion of pale yellow petals in my kitchen. I cook. I cuddle. I tilt my ear to the silence.

I'm waiting. Waiting for a signal or a flicker or a post-it note that points the way to my next great passion. Or redefined purpose. Or next step on the path of my personal evolution. It's coming. In one form or another. On petals or skyline spectrums or whispers in the noiseless night. It's coming. I'm waiting. My heart is filled with hope.