Patience walks where the wild roots grow,
deep in the earth where slow waters flow.
It listens to seasons the way mountains do,
trusting the sky to become something new.
It waits in the wisdom of seeds in the ground,
where silence and sunlight quietly abound.
No hurry in blossoms learning to rise,
only the promise of time made wise.
Patience is carved in the face of a stone,
shaped by the rivers it has always known.
The wind may wander, the storms may roam,
yet the ancient hills remain at home.
It drifts with the clouds across endless blue,
teaching the heart what waiting can do.
Like forests that gather their strength unseen,
growing in spaces where stillness has been.
The ocean repeats its patient refrain,
wave after wave in a timeless chain.
Not rushing the shore nor resisting the tide,
just trusting the rhythm the stars provide.
So walk with the earth and breathe in her pace,
where time becomes tenderness, space becomes grace.
For patience is the path the universe shows –
the quiet power through which all life grows.
