Still...

I'm still waiting. Waiting like Forest Gump in the bench of the bus station. The buses come. They stop. They honk and go. People come, set, speak and go. They speak, we speak, you speak, we laugh, we cry, I cry, they cry. They take a bus and go. I stand up, follow the bus a little, and then I remember that I have an important thing to do. I'm waiting. Waiting for a miracle to come and can't find me in the bench of the bus station.


I'm still waiting. It shouldn't remain like this. It shouldn't be spent this way. There should be a change. It must find its way among these too many earthen ways, among these too many correct and wrong tableaus, among these too many colorful buses. That happening, that miracle must come, must comes and changes things, me and my life. You see? Change no; exchange. miracle exchanges, converts. It converts rods to dragons and seas to deserts. I don't want any helps. I don't want any prescriptions and plans. I want that miracle. What if god sent a boat for Moses instead of that miracle? Of course I'm not Moses, and there is no pharaoh's corps behind me. But my problem can be solved just by that miracle.


I… I'm unsatisfied. A complainant. I complain. I nag. I want more, like Oliver Twist, I'm not satisfied with a single scoop of that watery soup. I'm different. I'm different even from Oliver Twist. I want more, I want the miracle. I look at the horizon and I can't see the truck; I'm looking for the truth and I can't hear its honks. The truck passes on me and I'm thinking what a density has this red hot fluid and how properly I can fill the blanks of the street. It shouldn't remain this way. It must change. And I'm ready, ready to…ready for…I'm ready to wait for it in perpetuity.


I look at my palms. I can see myself through those bold lines. I'm still waiting, old and dodderer, on that very bench, on that very station; still waiting. I look at my watch now and then. (There are no hands in my watch; it shows just dates.) It's a long time that no bus stops in the station. It's a long time that no one sets in the station. It's such a long time that the only thing which is remaining is my bench in the station. I look at the horizon and I'm sure…I'm sure that she will come someday.