I once pressed forward through the haze,
Unwilling to wait, untrained in grace—
But love, she held my trembling hand,
And taught me how to softly stand.
The mist was thick in younger years,
Each step I took laced through with fears.
Who I was felt veiled and far,
Like moonlight wrapped in smoky char.
I learned to breathe and not to chase,
To let the fog unveil my face.
My roots sank deep, though light was few,
I bloomed in time, as lotuses do.
With her, I found a kind of peace
That only waiting can release.
She saw me, clear, through every shroud—
In silence strong, in quiet proud.
Now in my forties, mist or sun,
I know the day can still be won.
Not by the push, but by the stay—
Still, I bloom in my own way.
© Susie Stiles-Wolf
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Author:
GeekSusie (
Offline) - Published: June 2nd, 2025 19:04
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments3
A beautiful write with great images and good flow it shows good word choice
Beautiful
Nice one susie
Sweet Blooming rhythms
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