“Pick Up the Phone.”

When will you be,
Coming back to me?
I often sit alone, at home.
Waiting for your call.
Waiting I don’t know for how long.
Some say to me,
“What do you love passionately?”
I know not why,
Things are as they are.
Sometimes I try to understand too much.
I’ve given away too much!
She has me, that much is so.
So I say to you,
Can you not see me?
I’ve been waiting so patiently;
But you don’t see.
I’ve given to you, always freely.
Gifts of prose, thoughts and of work.
But still, I don’t hear from you!
So I say to you,
Pick-up your phone!
I’ve reached across the great divide!
And given, freely of myself.
I know you are in need,
So I’ve freely given from the heart.
So I ask you very simply,
Pick-up the phone, and let’s start.
So when will you be?
Calling unto me?
My heart is already yours’, waiting!
Patiently is not something easy.
So I ask you, when will you phone?
So I ask you,
Pick-up the phone!