The restless – a poem

Time seems to go by so slowly

and yet at times so fast.

With each passing second, minute and hour,

There’s this itch under my skin;

I fidget with my fingers and my hands

tapping my feet and shaking my legs

 

A sense of anticipation builds inside,

I can barely breathe with shallow breaths,

My mind is a whirlwind of chaos

and my heart’s beating up a storm.

 

A hand clasps mine and stills my movements;

With a reassuring grip and a smile later,

A calm settles deep inside,

It is then that I appreciate the quiet and the unknown,

with the air of patience hovering around us.

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Patience

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