My soul thirsted 
But you pushed away water 
My spirit starved, 
Yet you hid all the food, 
You took my bone thin hand in yours 
You whispered “Wait.” 
And by the day I waited 
Tired 
Hungry  
Foot-sore 
I stood for months outside your door 
I begged to rest 
Yet you yielded no pillow 
I screamed, I cried, a yelled till my jaw ached 
Yet you said, “Wait.” 
I bit my tongue  
I held my breathe 
And I waited 
And waited  
And waited 
Slowly,  
The door began to open 
Slowly. 
My soul thirsted 
And you let me drink 
My spirit starved, 
And you had it fed 
I begged for rest 
And you put me to bed 
You took my shaking hand in yours,  
Blemished, imperfect shaking hand,  
You took it 
And said yes.