Waiting

I am a waiter –
it is my vocation.
Waiting for people to come,
waiting for people to stay,
waiting for people to go,
and waiting for people
who have gone.

Waiting also for the sun
to rise one day.
In the vast darkness
of a desert night
the faded glow of embers
are a constant reminder
of the coming dawn.
Waiting yes,
but in the background;
almost as if of no import,
yet tremendously so.