The Unfolding Path

Time doesn’t rush,  
it unfurls, like a flower blooming slowly,  
its petals stretching toward the sun,  
while the earth turns quietly beneath.
The days come,  
stacking themselves like stones in the river,  
each one shaping the path beneath the water,  
softening the rough edges.  

I walk through it,  
not always aware of the shift,  
until I glance back and see  
the footprints that were once so small,  
now stretching farther behind me.  
The seasons change—  
and I change with them,  
each moment a thread,  
woven into a tapestry I cannot yet fully see.

But in the gentle turning of days,  
I find peace.  
Not in racing ahead,  
but in the quiet unfolding  
of who I am,  
who I will be.