In the quiet shadows of the waiting hour,
Where dreams linger softly in the breeze,
Patience speaks in whispers, not in power,
Guiding hearts with gentle, unseen ease.

Amidst the storm of restless longing,
She stands firm, a steady, calming light,
Teaching us the art of gentle belonging,
Through the darkest depths of endless night.

With every moment, softly unfolding,
Her grace molds the chaos into peace,
In her arms, hope is gently holding,
A promise that every storm will cease.

Thus, in the tapestry of silent time,
Patience weaves her golden thread,
In her embrace, we find the rhyme,
Of life’s quiet whispers, softly said.