Patient, Like Petals

I have been reaching for you across distances I cannot name. Not by miles, but moments, not geography, but timing, the mathematical formula of almost. My body arches toward you the way wildflowers lean into wind, the way vines climb toward light they can sense but haven't touched yet. I am all reaching, all want, fingers stretched toward something just beyond my grasp. I could collapse under the weight of wanting, let the hunger consume me, but I am preparing for the moment when you finally arrive. So I reach, and I wait, longing softening me instead of hardening me. Let it fill me with the ache of anticipation, that the most beautiful blooms take their time unfurling. And when you finally come... If you finally come... I'll be here, still reaching, still soft, still believing that patience is just another word for faith.