Patience. Poem by Driss Ezzireg

Still time erodes figures.
And I am the sole master
Of my anguished fevers.
A dervish spinning round and round
Eyes wide shut and mind adrift
Knowing not how to fly,
when to lift the soul
To the firmament.
A wizard in the eyes of some
A wise man in those of others
A sword in the heart of dainty wives
A feather breaking backs of sly knaves.
Who knows?
Who knows when is the right time
For the heavenly bells to chime?
Patience is a healer.
Patience is a killer.
Patience...