The becoming
    is not yet
    it's still early morning
    there's nothing to celebrate

    life is the waiting
   so many in yearning forget
   each moment is testing
   patience--  useless to fret

   the greater the longing
   the tighter the closed gate
   of time-  agonising
   the restless heart that couldn't wait

   joy will be in the offing
   on an unsought-after date
   with long-suffering love in flowering
   its wonders and bliss never to fade.