Brewing Patience

In the darkened morning light,
grains grind slowly, each to blend,
the art of patience turns the night–
steeped in silence, shadows bend.

Time spills secrets with no end,
the art of patience turns the night–
slowly brewed, it’s life we mend.

Steam rises, curling like smoke,
absinthe ghosts dance in the brew,
patience is a bitter joke,
the dark drink is our cue.

Time’s rich gift, a hidden clue,
patience is a bitter joke,
in this cup, dreams are renewed.

In each sip, a dark delight,
caffeine’s kiss is rough and true,
the art of patience turns the night–
stirring slowly, nothing’s new.

Days are brewed, and doubts pursue,
the art of patience turns the night–
a lesson steeped in every brew.

In the silence of the cup,
lessons linger, deep and slow,
the art of patience turns the night–
wisdom blooms where dark things grow.

A tempered heart begins to show,
the art of patience turns the night–
through the darkness, we will glow.