The Waiting Room

I am sitting on a chair
It is hard and green.
Alone with my thoughts
Unseeing, unseen.
I am waiting, waiting
Sat outside the door
Under an artificial light
On a beige shiny floor.

So I sit and I pray.
Stop. Think. Pause.
What should I hope for?
That they find the cause?
Or that they don 't?
Do you understand
I find it hard
To leave in His hands?

Just outside these walls
And through that window
The sky is very blue,
Those people there, they don't know,
Don't have a clue
Why I'm waiting here
They have their own share
Of pain and of fear.

But this is where I find myself,
This is my difficult place.
There is no choice, I must stand up
Head on and face to face.
We will hold on hard
And make a stand
Living and learning and being
Whatever comes is in His hand