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Cusp ©

Fife, Scotland

That feeling of being on the cusp
Of something
Moving from one thing to another
as if a presence taps my shoulder
Yet no matter how swiftly I turn
The space is empty
But for the lingering impression
Of a benevolent hand

This cannot be conjured up
Nor dispensed and bottled
It is the Universe showing faith
Not by pushing me nor nudging
As a producer in a play
Would to an actress during stage fright
It is as a gentle breeze on a warm day
As a concerto softly created for me alone

Anticipation is channelled excitement
It's the knowledge that good things wait
In the wings
It is a fundamental stage of joy

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