A river—
ever-changing,
rushing forward,
eroding as it drifts,
carrying fragments of my past—
never pausing, always pressing on,
not weaving, only wearing down
as it meanders—unpredictable.
A river—
restless and untamed,
carving its way through the earth,
carrying fragments of time—
moments worn smooth by its passage,
bringing the quiet inevitability of change.
it moves without hesitation,
never holding what it touches,
gently shaping the way I think.