Hope and patience form an intersection,
Sprouting green leaves and new blooms.
They water each other, support showering
Down, sun rays shining on the droplets.
Hope is expectation, a want for something
To happen. Or to change. Maybe a beginning—
A shoot of light springing from the dark ground,
Stretching for sky, moving, to be made into more.
Patience, the capacity, the endurance, of delay.
Waiting, counting, on what may never happen.
Tolerating trouble without emotion, always searching,
For the bud to show, for the timing to be right.
It’s difficult to describe hope without patience, waiting,
And even harder to define patience without hope, desire.
They’re tied together, entwined, woven into a
Coexistence, helping, holding on to each other.
When one sizzles out, the other follows fast.
The leaves curl, the blooms fade: vibrant to burnt.
The dullness drives in burning questions and doubts.
The unknown lingers and lurks in the shadows.
One Word at a Time 