Have patience when your noon is full,
As you peak o’er the evening fall,
When your breath quickens at the sound
Of empty valley tumbling down.
Hurry not as the shadows rise
To steal what morning sweat has earned,
As straight sunbeams gaily reveal
What gave you free, now sour mourn.
Have patience, love, less faith in sight;
If eyes present a painful way,
Doubt their truth, so your spirit might
Strengthen your heart for stranger days.
Then, with wrong thoughts rightly out-thought,
See plainly into that valley—
The beauty there that’s yet to be.
No more a captive of the past,
Your glances no more backward bend
To dwell upon such ugliness.
Peace, my love. Gentle to the end.
(2025)
