It could be tomorrow.
Or the day after.
The important thing will be
that you’ll know when it happens that
it’s what you’ve been waiting for
perhaps all your life
you’ll go out of the door as usual
at the usual time
but instead of turning right
you’ll turn left
just that
and then it will unfold
like someone else’s life
and you’ll talk to different people,
listen differently
see differently
and then find yourself writing
in a quite different way
perhaps even in a strange language
about emotions you never had before
deep down, it’s always been whispering
no singing, in your ear
like when you were a child
and there they were behind you but
you could never turn round quick enough
to catch them. The other poetry
you never wrote but you know it’s there
maybe waiting for you
maybe waiting for someone else
but there. So close.
Maybe one day.
Or the day after.