Patience

And now comes the wait. By far the hardest part. The minutes stretch into hours, and hours into days. None condensing under the weight of longing, that I may bring you closer. On the other side of patience lies death, that when you acquiesce, our time is shortened twice. Now in the waiting, each testing moment wasted on dreaming, and when such dreams may come true, less life to spend with you. Time on its own, regardless of you and I. I am powerless against it, powerless with you, powerless except in longing, powerless. Spend our hours on nothing, if it’s nothing you value, all my hours yours to plant as you please. I stare at the ground where I picture our tree, water it with hope, for nothing is impossible, but still ground I see. Parched feet on parched soil, where did the days go? No apples to taste you with, no seed that I may be forever planted within you, no wood to keep our fire burning. Left with a night sky and stars, falling like the monsoon rains. Each dying under their own longing. How many others are there like me? No time for self pity, waste not these gifts, for whilst any remain, daring to burn themselves for you, nothing is impossible.