untitled4

Did I give up?

No, I’m just in a different season:

Experiencing new things,

Connecting to different reasons.

Forcing growth isn’t the way to do,

Allow it to come forth and blow right through.

Slow and steady wins the race;

I’d beat myself up for not picking up the pace.

Lacing my sneaks, I step out onto the pavement,

Breaking into a sprint, I escape mental enslavement.

Freedom tastes like heaven.

Magic in the motion,

Calming the commotion,

I stand in this beauty feeling the bliss.

Winds of joy whispers a kiss,

The past I no longer miss,

And embrace the present for what is,

As I transform the future every step of the way.