Iron Mountain ski jump

Iron Mountain ski jump

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Patience Is Not a Single Virtue-a poem

Christ In Winter: Reflections on Faith for the Years of Winter

I usually preface my poems with “I am not a poet.” But that is like saying “I am not a theologian,” and then talking about God. If you are talking or thinking about God, you are a theologian, perhaps not educated or professional, but a theologian, nonetheless. I suspect the same is true with poetry. If you write poems, you’re a poet. So I should refrain from, “I’m not a poet,” but say simply, as warning, “I’m not a very good poet.” I work at it. Not with patience, for I am too impatient for re-writing, editing, improving. Nonetheless, I know that…

Patience is not a single virtue
Standing straight and long in line
Unchanging through the day.

There is the pastel patience
Of the dawning, a yellow rose
With crimson edges

There is the brighter hue of noonday
Blue, a sweating patience,
Yearning to be true

The zenith of the sun
Turns patience bronze and burned
With orange and scarlet stagger

Then comes the darker blue
Of evening, as a net of purple deep
Upon a garden wall, a guitarsy

Hymn of long ago, now a song
Of crickets gone to sleep
And frogs in love with moonglow

There is the deep black patience
Of the midnight, staring back
At eyes that wander walls for hope

Patience is not a single virtue…


I tweet as yooper1721.

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