On Patience

Patience sees the salvias grow big, bushy, proudly purple

And beloved by the bees, who are loved in return, I believe

Patience is a witness to quiet richness, to the truly timeless love stories of ecosystems

And mycorrhizal networks

Did I invite her—Patience—here today?

No, I just gratefully accepted her, already present on my porch

Because she always stays when I do

She always lets me watch and witness and behold along with her

And she always brings a little grace as her gift, bless her

She is the companion I never thought I’d have

Or want

Or value

So very much after a life mostly lived head-first-fast-fast-fast!

And often on fire

I thought Patience didn’t know my name, wouldn’t come close, couldn’t anyway…

But I was wrong

And she brought water to my fire

And the thing she has taught me

The thing she is always teaching all of us, I suppose

Is appreciation of the unfolding—

Layers of energy in ephemeral wildflowers

It is appreciation of the surrender—

A dying old maple out back

Appreciation of anticipation—

Fruits and herbs and blooms on their way

Appreciation of the process—

“Everything moves toward entropy”

Appreciation of the mystery—