Between one breath and the next
I wonder why I’m here
and what here really means
when everything keeps moving.
I look for answers in small things
a puddle, a cloud
a moment that feels too short to hold.
I see myself in them
but never quite clearly.
Some days I wish I were a stone
quiet and sure.
Other days, the wind
free, even if lost.
Maybe life isn’t a question to solve
but a feeling to follow.
Maybe it’s enough
to listen
to the quiet
between knowing and wondering.