Growth is not a wildfire’s rage
not a storm that bends the trees in haste
It is the river carving stone,
slow and patient, full of grace
Not every wound must turn to war,
not every scar must bear a name
Some pains dissolve like mist at dawn,
some ghosts depart without a trace
Be gentle with the soul you tend,
like petals yielding to the breeze
Not all change is loud and sudden—
some unfolds in quiet peace
The past, a whisper on the wind,
no longer yours to chase or claim
What once was weight now drifts like dust,
a blessing freed, a shed old name
To evolve is not to race the sun,
nor fear the dark where silence sings
It is to trust the bloom will come,
to trust your roots will stretch their wings—
Copyright © 2025 Sherley Delia | All rights reserved.
Healing Majestically 