01
My eyes, open to light,
to the glisten of dew on blades of grass,
to the dance of shadows across the ground,
as if the earth itself breathes,
stretching, stirring,
and I am part of its waking,
alive in every quiet miracle,
every whisper of the world.
02
Hair rose at the back of my neck as I wrote,
as if time itself
ran its fingers along my spine,
reminding me of what I could not outrun.
The ticking, louder now,
echoed in the quiet,
each beat a hammer,
each second a pulse I couldn’t ignore.
03
We only ever move forward, step by step,
leaving behind what was -
not in regret, but with a gentle nod,
as the sun tips over the edge of the world,
stretching shadows that grow long, then fade.