Patience.

Planting the seed of patience

for the leaves of integrity to grow,

for the stems of conviction to rise—

for the roots of discernment to deepen

quietly, unseen, anchoring me through storms.

for the trunk of steadiness to thicken,

holding weight without needing applause.

for the branches of relationship to extend outward,

far enough to shelter others,

flexible enough not to break.

for the bark of boundaries to form,

not hardening me,

but protecting what is alive inside.

for the sap of compassion to circulate,

moving nourishment where it’s needed,

never pooling, never hoarded.

for the blossoms of clarity to appear in their season—

not permanent,

but unmistakable when they arrive.

for the fruit of responsibility to ripen slowly,

meant to be shared,

not displayed.

for the fallen leaves of old beliefs to return to the soil,

feeding what comes next

without resentment.