Patience isn't always just waiting:
sometimes it is moving forward anyway.
Patience, sometimes, is expecting an answer
even though you can no longer pray.
Sometimes falling asleep takes patience,
you can't catch sleep while waiting for it.
Dreams are neither patient nor impatient,
sometimes they stay, sometimes they don't.
The dead must be patient, all that waiting,
sometimes I don't think of them at all.
Being alone used to make me very impatient,
now, sometimes I grow impatient for loneliness.
Thank you, love, for being patient with me,
it's just that sometimes I can't help myself.
Writing a poem should be an exercise of patience,
often it is a hurried push & turn away.
I may have to put the first four lines on a magnet on my fridge, and I don't mean that in a 'that's a very nice hat you're wearing, Mrs. Cleaver' kind of a way. They sum up exactly how I've been feeling for a very long time. Thanks for finding words I didn't have yet.
ReplyDelete"Sometimes falling asleep takes patience,
ReplyDeleteyou can't catch sleep while waiting for it."
I should have read this before trying to go to bed last night ("trying" being the key word)... good advice from a good poem. It's not quite, but nearly, an apostrophic epistle-ode. ;)
I echo the previous sentiments on this poem. I like the way this is structured. Though there is a certain formal distance in the observations, this poem has an authentically intimate feel. :)
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