The Art of Patient Waiting

THE ART OF PATIENT WAITING The art of waiting only comes eventually After days to decades of practical practice Staying in limbo, whether still or pacing: As looking down the line of tracks for An awaited train; as in a stretched-neck Waiting to merge into traffic; like gauging the run Of a line by counting the number of people Ahead; and the preparing to enter More internal rooms Where another recline in time will begin. We wait for seasons or service; or recognition; We wish for an end of fears and pray for The clearing of storms; for speedy healing; Or for a quickened death without suffering. We tell ourselves we are patient Upon every minute’s glance out a window, And applaud the grace of our twiddling fingers; Or we go one more time playing, “I see something Green...” with our children. We discover How quickly busy minds grow bored, left to notice How the stunning plants on the tables beside us In the waiting room are really cheerless plastic. A desire for usefulness grows: we may Choose to pick among our mental menus; May begin making lists; may go on To worry that what’s expected will not come. Feet tap. Eyes are rubbed. It may be that despite the laws of physics, Actions do not precipitate further actions, That the timetables of people may, after all, Only and always abide in the art of patient Awaiting upon the Lord... Through the directed dispersal of our hours As eternal judgement will reveal. *********. ************. ********** (c) Sally Young Eslinger 9/11/20 Thanks be to God