the art of practicing patience
thirty-one days have passed
and I’m prepared to breach the surface
having survived my stay with the living dead
who turned out to be quite charming
programmed to reach for stars
atop my toes I stretch my arms high above
palms open and eyes tightly shut
imploring the gods to answer my calls
expectations can be a bitch (I am told)
especially when living in a fantasy world
so I relax my mind and sit cross legged
repeating patience is more than virtuous
march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
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love this.
love that you do, thank you