Yearning

A longing for something strikes
Restless and wanting
One waits, for the something to arrive.

The wait has begun, and suddenly all is tense.
Will it appear, what is nebulous?
There is no word for it, just a feeling,
A wanting, a yearning.

Nothing then satisfies,
All else is black and white,
But that something
That tantalises from afar, being just out of reach,
Out of sight, but not out of mind.

The yearning then becomes a state of living.
Something that is there, yet without your touch.
That something not too far, yet near.
Your fingers itch to clutch, to grab.
Yet, you wait, patiently…
For life, has its ways of teaching you to wait.
To keep you constant, in wanting.