The more patient I am…: A poem 

The shine of sixty years 

And half of it, when I was thirty 

I polished the immature strands 

into purpose. No fruit was eaten, 

the path was not beaten 

Even the storm that you came with 

had meaning to an end 

Help comes with invisible arms 

We may feel cocooned by desire, 

but the chrysalis is in abstinence 

in preferring the eternal 

I walked to you on a long-struggled path 

And now, I think, I deserve you 

in a verdant forest of awakening with no clouds, 

no rain, no shame and no pain 

I can still break conventions 

Determination is an invention of character 

and an exercise towards hope 

But I know I’ll have more flowers 

in the garden of my soul 

the more patient I am…