Patience Poem by Richard Realf

The swift years bring but slow development
Of the world’s majesty; for Freedom is
Born grandly, as a solid continent,
Layer upon layer, from chaos and the abyss,
Shoulders its awful granite to the light,
Building the eternal mountains, on whose crests,
Pinnacled in the intense sapphire, rests
The brooding calmness of the Infinite.
But we, whirled round and round in heated gusts
Of eager indignation, think to weigh
Against God’s patience our gross griefs and lusts,
Like foolish Jonah before Nineveh
(Oh, world-wide symbol of his vanished gourd!),
Expostulating gravely with the Lord.