In silent whispers, the world turns slow,
Each moment a seed in the garden below,
Wrapped in the gentle embrace of time’s flow,
We learn to dance, to bend, to grow.

Patience, a river that carves its way,
Through mountains and valleys, it finds its sway,
Waiting, a melody that softly plays,
In the silence, its gentle voice stays.

The dawn of hope in the night’s embrace,
Seeds of dreams in the quiet space,
With every heartbeat, a steady pace,
Trust in the journey, not the race.

In the waiting, we find the art,
Of healing wounds and mending hearts,
Life’s tapestry, a woven chart,
Where patience holds the truest part.