In Patience
I am a slender thing, a
Wet small seed of self.
Layer upon layer of time
And growth
Blocks from me the surface of the earth.
The time is not yet.
I drink water from the roots of trees,
Grounding myself.
I rest in molecules of shine
That filtered down through dirt
Like white light through stained glass:
Warm, and comforting.
I rest
In the knowledge of all the time there is.
Rush is not a word
In the lexicon of my seedling self.
All things
In their own time
Arrive.
And so I wait
With all the wisdom of my journey around, above,
And yet to come.
Neither growing nor asleep
I rest
A tiny source of light
Humming and sparking softly
To myself.
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Such a sweet poem, Alix. I like “molecules of shine.” And your comment about there being no rush is true as we have infinite time as souls continue to grow and explore. Wonderful poem, my dear Alix, as always! hugs, pat
I write what I am trying to learn. Patience is a challenge for me always, but I am practicing. lol