More than the watchmen wait for morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.

On a walk that I had a few days ago, the phrase: ‘more than watchman wait for the morning, more than watchman wait for the morning ran again and again through my head. Then, in a moment of revelation I understood that the watchman isn’t hopping that the morning will come. The morning is on it’s way.

This phrase "more than watchman wait for the morning," is from one of my favorite books. I guess you could even stretch to say that it describes the place that I stand right now. Waiting for the morning. Countless others stand here with me- All waiting for different things. Still, all the same, waiting. A night shift worker knows this very well that the question will never be: Will the morning make it? Rather, Will I make it to the morning?

Have you ever wanted and waited for something
more than 'watchman wait for the morning?

Working the nightshift, at a group home, I know all about the ‘watchmen’ waiting for the morning. I know the longing for the morning that sets in. Particularly close to 4am, when one of the littlest boys gets up to play a round or three of ‘catch me if you can.’ I know of the glaze that can cover your eyes where, in a very real way you wonder why in the world you still cling to a distant idea that seems so far off.

Either way, the morning is comming and I plan on seeing it's dawn.