The Patient

the Patient washes their hands.
the peasant blesses
the washing,
blesses their hands.
the Patient blesses
their blessings
and blesses their patience.
the peasant now waits.
the Patient blesses
their waiting.
the peasant
their time. the Patient
and is observant
of subtle variety, blessing
it all. the peasant
has blessings a’plenty
to match wonder
with wording,
when they are ready.

with slips and
with starts; and
with what’s intensely felt
impains the arrowed faithful visage,
the Patient grows
closer to being
close. the peasant
abides to commence
the moment of encounter
selecting that most well apportioned
chosen with sanguine inspiration
as manifestation
existent in a surrendered exhale.

the Patient awaits.
the peasant is blessed.