READ POEM:

I am waiting
for shrink-wrapped facts to fall from the bellies of planes
while gators slide across water and insects roar.

I am waiting
for a country-western singer without a pickup,
for a horse bounding
through grasses flung like long hair in the wind.

I am waiting
for unstandardized tests
that measure empathy and intuition.
I am waiting
for ravens to play on a wind shear,
fly into it, get flung skyward,
bank, turn, and float to the ground.

I am waiting for Orcas to swim up the Columbia,
for grizzlies to hold clam bakes,
and for hummingbirds to outclass helicopters.

I am waiting for my horoscope to apologize for being wrong,
for bull snakes to stretch full out across a dirt road,
and bask in the sun.

I am waiting for Gandhi, Jesus, Mohammed and Abe
to dance with the Blackfeet Buffalo Women,
laugh and joke with the Motokiks.

I am waiting for the original Americans to get back their land.

I am waiting for feminist Mormons to start a new religion,
for white male alcoholics to stop talking and listen. Listen.
And for Pipe-Fitter Barbie to make union wages.

I am waiting for wild bees to swarm to a new hive.

I am waiting for justice to heal the bereaved.

I am waiting for the bathwater that holds all the babies thrown out with it.

I am waiting for a Luna moth
at a gas station
in Cherokee country.

I am waiting for camp coffee
and a Dutch oven breakfast
on a gravel bar where the river divides.
I am waiting for a quiet boat
in the current
where the river comes together again.