The Land of Waiting

"April is the cruellest month, breeding

lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

memory and desire, stirring

dull roots with spring rain."

--T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land: "The Burial of the Dead"

As I wait, anxiously, to plant my feet on the soil of a new home, I feel the cruellest weight of things known and unknown. Africa, a seed, has been planted and watered, and I'm ready for the ground to break-- for the roots to make themselves at home in my heart. But, with this new beginning, also comes the shedding of most things familiar and comfortable. I feel exhausted with the approaching reality of separation and the near fulfillment of a much-anticipated desire.