we want

we want
the gift unwrapped.
the new
day. the sun to rise.
the water
to boil.
we are an impatient lot.
like babies
in a crib,
crying
for comfort,
wanting what we want,
now.
nothing changes
much.
we might be less loud,
at this age,
grumbling beneath
our breath,
but no less
annoyed at how slow
the world moves
for us.