Why is it that all things have to be rushed?
The voices around us relentlessly indoctrinate and perpetuate:
Time is of the essence.
Time is our only non-renewable resource.
Time is a scarcity, unfortunately, that will only run out.
But some things, only time can tell;
some things require precisely the growth and maturation
that can only take place through time,
and feelings fermenting.
Why is it that everything that has happened between us
is all but a means to an end?
Why is it that even if the shot has missed the bullseye
by just an inch,
the bow has to be broken, shattered, abandoned
and never to be picked up ever again?
Why is it that we could have climbed a million steps
to get to where we are today,
but a slip,
an innocent stumble
has the magnitude of an earthquake
revealing the vast chasm between us
crumbling the very delicate road we once tread?
Perhaps all is needed is
a little more time,
a little more patience,
a little more understanding,
a little more forgiveness.