The Bird and Baby

They say that patience is a virtue,
A desirable trait to have.
You are born with it or you are not.
And there is no alternative.

But as spring brings her gentle wind,
And gales against my door.
I think I’ve learned at last by now,
What seasons are truly for.

You see, patience isn’t kind,
It’s not a lovely place to be.
There isn’t will to smell the roses,
When your boat is tossed at sea.

The art of waiting is a task,
A grueling quest on which you set,
To hope for better things,
Avoiding sins you would regret.

I wish to know if mine is over,
If this journey is at an end,
If this staring at the heavens,
Is time I’ll ever comprehend.

So, while Spring is in our minds,
And waiting in our hearts,
Let’s seek to wait for things unseen,
With which we’ll never part.

-Taylor Glenn Pritchard