I am sorry I can’t speak Chinese,
My words are lost upon the breeze.
But in my silence, please believe,
There's kindness tucked in every sleeve.
I’ll wait right here, both calm and still,
While you work with your quiet skill.
No rush, no fear, no need to race—
Just take your time, I trust your grace.
These glasses—cracked but full of light—
Hold little worlds within my sight.
And though they’re blurred, my hope stays clear:
You’ll mend them soon, you’re almost near.
I’ll be patient, I won’t complain,
No heartache here, no hint of strain.
Nothing bad will bloom today—
Just gentle winds to guide our way.
I believe in hands that care,
In quiet rooms and softened air.
And when you're done, I’ll see it true:
The good I hoped has come from you.
