Beautiful And True

Patience

by Mary Oliver

What is the good life now? Why,

look here, consider

the moon's white crescent

rounding, slowly, over

the half month to still another 

perfect circle--

the shining eye

that lightens the hills,

that lay down the shadows

of the branches of the trees,

that summons the flowers

to open their sleepy faces and look up

into the heavens.

I used to hurry everywhere,

and leaped over the running creeks.

There wasn't 

time enough for all the wonderful things

I could think of to do

in a single day. Patience

comes to the bones

before it takes root in the heart

as another good idea.

I say this

as I stand in the woods

and study the patterns

of the moon shadows,

or stroll down into the waters

that now, late summer, have also 

caught fever, and hardly move

from one eternity to another.

from--New And Selected Poems Volume Two