Patience ~ a poem for those who wait for change



Mine is the house of ticking clocks

Discordantly measuring the drip of time,

Dust dancing in the slow sunlight

Of the eternal Sunday afternoon.

Time crawls by on rheumatic knees;

The sun rise, the sun sets.

A week of empty fullness passes

Between each morning and each night.

The seasons turn sluggishly round,

The surfaces gather dust to plough

Furrows in and sow the seeds

Of future lives and grime,

Awaiting the apocalypse of dusters.

Tiny kingdoms rise and fall,

Eternity in a pinch of dirt,

And I wait, patient as a stone,

For ripples of change to grow,

Circles widening endlessly in water

Altering without alteration

Until the world shall change or end.



9 thoughts on “Patience ~ a poem for those who wait for change

  1. This great poetry works.Nice post.Keep it up.Meanwhile plz do pass by my blogs page read,follow and comment to aid me improve my works too.Thank you.Lovely day.

  2. Oh so nice.
    I like the ploughing of dust.

    Sunset – makes me think of my favorite part of Fiddler on the Roof.

    But the title makes me think of Guns n Roses:)


  3. Waiting can be active or passive. I like active. Therefore it means poor old patience has no opportunity to grow dust mites or host cobwebs in my life.

    • I do both but sometimes there is a period where all that can be done is step back and wait. This sort of patience is almost painful, because it’s almost like waiting for the tide to turn: nothing can be done to hasten it or even prepare for it.

  4. I see me, in you…especially as the dust collects or the stone waits…And then I wait for the choice, sometimes it ends, and the end is a Change. 🙂

    Loved this read.

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