separate

I have sat at the heel of your life
  waiting for the words to come.
         i would steal the corners of your wisdom

    peering through its occasionally
 rosy windows.

        you stood against
    some ancient mess,
    walked lightly.  history
coursing through.

 the best words (discreet after the years)
   I could find for you
         are   " something is waking.
               don't stumble"