What am I saving myself for?
Who do I dream will open the door?
When will my ship come in?

I sit passive, "fine", cocooned,
asleep, beached and marooned.
When will the ship moor?

But the timing is never.
The ship will not come in,
the world will not hover, to birth any "thing".

I dream to escape,
and venture to battle.
I swing from the cage and exit the cell.

My heart opens as I enter the fold
to live on my feet,
and die living bold.

There are endless steps to the path beyond.
Give up on waiting, gird your loins, laugh and walk on...