Patience

That there is a time for everything and

That my time will come someday or soon

I’ve heard much too very long

Redundantly

But I’ve become too accustomed to the wait and –

Perhaps because I am always fear-filled,

So spiteful of change I

Will settle even for the day-night tears.

Patience is like a seething rock

Standing ground against the dark cold waves

Tumbling, relentless and cruel.

When mistaking the clock for the calendar

And I will shy from the gaze of hope

I make a womb of my solace in the narrowest corner

And chant, perfect love will conquer fear.

When I forget what I’ve been seeking all along

I drift ashore into a hostile place

But where shall I find my oasis? The raging

Seas, or the barren land?

I balance broken legs upon a rolling log and cry out

To He Who Listens, what now?

But He Who Knows will wait knowing

That I call not for a mouth but for an ear.

What a fool I am, to always forget the existence

Of the sun – at the first sight of clouds, I despair.

But waiting is like a sugary poison, enveloping

My lifelessness into a pickled form.