Rest (But Not Yet)

It isn't come yet.
The buildings are cast in auburn light.
The heart beats still wildly, the papers
Are still piling.
But sunset foretells rest -
Even though it isn't come yet.

It isn't come yet,
But the springtime sweet on my tongue
Is taste enough to provoke me on,
Onward until the papers are gone.
The calendar foretells sweet rest -
Even though it isn't come yet.

It isn't come yet,
But I will repose with You.
Dearest heart-friend, I feel like I've been away long
And long at work.
To sit with you in shade and rest the evening,
To revel in the gold of stars and the balm of summer storms.
You assure me that there will be rest -
Even though it isn't come yet.

Written by Samantha Lindholm
April 8, 2014