Patience dies

I am here; you are there.
Had we been hares
By now we could have crossed over.
But we are only tortoises.
For my every ten steps
Had you put one step forward,
Then too, time could not have been far
For each to reach the other, my dear.
Had you been stationary,
My reaching you would have been sure.
But you retreat two steps
For every step you put onward.
Must I turn myself a hare
So that I can be fast there?
30.10.99

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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