"Pine Tree Sapling" - Bahamas AI Art
Things Take Time
The seed you plant, with hope and careful hand,
Doesn't burst forth, a forest in the land.
It rests beneath the soil, in slumber deep,
While sun and rain their patient vigil keep.
A tender shoot, then leaves, a fragile start,
A whispered promise, close within the heart.
And years will pass, through seasons, soft and stern,
Before the mighty oak, its lessons learn.
So too, your dreams, however grand they seem,
Are not fulfilled in one effulgent gleam.
The architect envisions, clear and bright,
The towering structure bathed in morning light.
But then the drafts, the calculations slow,
The foundations dug where solid footings go.
Each beam, each brick, meticulously placed,
A testament to time, and not to haste.
The blueprint perfect, but the building grows
By measured steps, as every craftsman knows.
The scholar pores, through pages worn and thin,
A vast domain of knowledge to take in.
No sudden flash illuminates the mind,
But patient toil, a truth they hope to find.
The tangled theorems, riddles to unbind,
The insights gained, by thoughtful, deep design.
A quiet struggle, through the midnight hours,
Before the wisdom blossoms, full of powers.
For mastery is not a swift ascent,
But steady climb, on learning's long intent.
The artist dreams of colors, bold and free,
A masterpiece for all the world to see.
Yet brushes dance, and canvas waits their plea,
With strokes uncertain, then with surety.
A thousand sketches, lines erased and drawn,
The perfect shade, sought from the breaking dawn.
Each blending hue, each shadow understood,
A slow unfolding, for the greater good.
The vision clears, but practice paves the way,
To capture beauty, or to seize the day.
And so with life, the goals we hold so dear,
May not arrive within a single year.
The healthy body, strong and vibrant, trim,
Is built by habits, not a fleeting whim.
The prosperous venture, rising from the small,
Requires resilience, standing after fall.
The loving bond, a trust that deepens slow,
With shared experiences, through joy and woe.
For true achievement, solid, real, and deep,
Is not a harvest, but a seed to keep.
So quiet patience, let it be your guide,
As hopes and aspirations swell inside.
Resist the urge to push, to force the pace,
Embrace the journey, find your rightful place.
For what is built with hurried, frantic hand,
May crumble swiftly, sinking in the sand.
But what is nurtured, with a steady will,
Will stand the test of time, on life's long hill.
The greatest triumphs, lasting, rich, and true,
Are those that blossom, when things take time for you.
