I never taught myself to wait. Pacing, back and forth. Sluggish minutes crawling ‘cross my back. Waiting is an itch to weigh, it’s to rein the rain or survey sand. Waiting is a fire burning cold.
I remember how my mother told me she would pick me up at five o’clock and how I fumed when she arrived four minutes and twenty three seconds later than agreed. I had counted cars and told her just how many that had passed.
I never taught myself to wait, but I learned to count.
mirrored in asphalt
headlights passing — lightworm
snaking home to eat
Today Imelda is guest hosting for haibun Monday at dVerse, and the subject is waiting.
“Sluggish minutes crawling ‘cross my back.”
“Waiting is an itch to weigh, it’s to rein the rain or survey sand.”
My goodness, those are exceptional descriptions.
“four minutes and twenty three seconds later than agreed” … Ha. I can totally picture this. I was an antsy child as well.
“I never taught myself to wait, but I learned to count.” … I think that’s probably a very good approach.
Of course you know what I’m picturing in the haiku. 🙂
Thumbs up to the passing cars 🙂
Ha ha ha. Enjoy, little boy. Be safe out there.
Waiting for someone to pick you up or meet up are tortured waiting for me. Counting is a good way to pass time. Love this: Waiting is a fire burning cold. And superb haiku of the lightworm snaking home to eat
Thank you… I remember one time in particular.
I like that lightworm very much. I think my son would empathise with you – I seem to always be late to pick him up!
Ha… yes 2-3 minutes feels like eternity when you are waiting.
Bang on and much fun. You nailed one of the primary waiting peeves. The worst kind of waiting for me was alongside a broken down car on the freeway, waiting for rescue; convinced that all those cars passing by are impervious to my plight.
Exactly… and it was even worse being a kid waiting for my mother.
Counting is something to do while waiting.
Exactly… counting crows.
Oh my. Your learning to count while waiting. I always had a book and read until the person came. I don’t mind wating – except waiting on the outcome of someone I love in hospital. the lightworm is an interesting haiku.
I think there are moments when I can wait too… and today I always have something to read too…
There seem to be two kinds of waiting, the excited waiting in anticipation of something that will happen, and waiting with the fear that it isn’t going to happen.
counting cars was something I did on a long journey to my dad’s hometown, and the “are we there yet” made my mother so impatient with me. such a lovely share of how you did something so useful with your time of waiting.
Waiting is an acquired taste, is it not, Bjorn! I love the humor in your final line!
Great post Bjorn. Waiting is a hard cross to bear! Especially when snaking home in the headlights behind slow drivers!! Love the haiku!
” Waiting is a fire burning cold.” Sheer perfection! Exsquisite haibun, Bjorn!
Ha! I’m the exact opposite of you! I think that your scientist’s mind was already formed by that age.
Waiting is an itch to weigh-
You do such a great job showing the impatience we have when waiting on someone. Liked the light worms too!
I can relate Bjorn, I am not good with wsiting, or eith chsnge… nice write…
Waiting is an itch to weigh….wow that is true! Waiting has always been hard for me. I am still in waiting!
I wonder if we are predisposed to be impatient or not. You certainly illustrate the former.
What child could not identify with your lines? I recognize myself in the sulky little child trying desperately to be patient but couldn’t? For sure, hunger aggravates a child, even an adult’s, impatience.
oh we share the same (short) patience. this line is so true: Waiting is a fire burning cold.
This reminds me of how I used to be, Björn: ‘Pacing, back and forth. Sluggish minutes crawling ‘cross my back’. I love the play on words in ‘Waiting is an itch to weigh, it’s to rein the rain or survey sand’. I can imagine a little Björn marking the time and counting cars! How old were you then? You’ve captured a great image in the haiku.
I must have nine or ten…
The nine or ten year old you reminds me of my daughter at that age – no patience whatsoever!
This was my son too! I used to stress to get there in time.
loved lightworm snaking – somehow captures the awful unbroken continuity of waiting – that continues even when you get in the car
Beautiful phrasing, Bjorn!
Waiting is an itch to weigh, it’s to rein the rain or survey sand.
Ah, you define that waiting and the lack of patience in such inspired phrases here — the restlessness is palpable throughout. Loved this bit: “Waiting is an itch to weigh, it’s to rein the rain or survey sand. Waiting is a fire burning cold.”
And the haiku is so cool too — asphalt, lightworm, et al.
Love the haiku so much! To see that movement of headlights and come up with “lightworm” is a true poetic leap.
it’s fascinating to note, and wonder, that perhaps even at a young age, or maybe only later, we tend to have patience for somethings, and yet not others …. and I think you’ve captured the essence of waiting … and waiting on/for someone, as shared in this haibun, exceptionally well. Tone, word phrases – fantastic for the scene set in our minds, and the absolute pointed “telling” to “right the wrongs” … and I really like the freshness of the haiku! Wow – that is most amazing … and yes, “lightworms” on asphalt when one is waiting and wanting to get back and warm up, and satisfy one’s hunger, especially as a child …. so well captured!
This is a real “waiting” poem. And I like “Waiting is a fire burning cold”. Nicely done.
LOL, we have one kid (of three) like you — angry if late, very punctual and a very picky eater. I wonder if that is captured in the O.C.E.A.N. personality traits or if it should be WOCEAN?
…I’m that mother 😛
“Waiting is a fire burning cold”… oh that’s pretty freaking dope. I love your vivid metaphors.
Waiting.. I’ve never been good at it, but with my daughter’s illness I have been forced to at least manage a bit of my anxiety. Love this piece!
It’s interesting the idea that you had to teach yourself to wait–and that you learned to count as a result. I can picture that little boy. 🙂
My mother (now 96) has become very impatient when waiting, and she doesn’t have a real sense of time.
This was fun to read, Bjorn. The haiku was nice though I liked the surprise ending of the prose section. A really unique way to learn to count. But then I cannot count sheep because I never see any to count.