patience
An absolute
patience.
Trees stand
up to their knees in
fog. The fog
slowly flows
uphill.
White
cobwebs, the grass
leaning where deer
have looked for apples.
The woods
from brook to where
the top of the hill looks
over the fog, send up
not one bird.
So absolute, it is
no other than
happiness itself, a breathing
too quiet to hear.
Denise Levertov, The Breathing
Oh, how I wish I could have the patience of a tree that stands firm and patiently as it grows very slowly older….and all the rushing of the world and work flies by.
Is that not faith ? Patient faith in an infinitely patient God?