Waiting

Time is involved.

I watch movements of people walking, one foot proceeds another. Some walk with purpose. Others saunter or stroll. Clothing strides with the legs, arms swung. I watch them go somewhere else.

I breath. I am quiet, patient, simply calm.

The wind winds itself slowly around objects. A butterfly seems to be heard. A plastic bag drifts across the road.

My watch marks the hours without ticking. I look at the dial sometimes. The numbers are small and hard to distinguish. When I look again, the hands of the timepiece have changed to a different position. The hour seems irrelevant.

When nothing is expected, time becomes inconsequential. Waiting stops when something happens. Time becomes important again. Time becomes precious. Time is valued.

I can induce activity. Sometimes I need to wait.