I don’t race turtles,
and I surely don’t chase hares.
I walk like honey—slow, sweet,
and sticking to places that care.
They say, “You should be further!”
I say, “Further from what?”
Your rushed, ragged blueprint?
That timeline’s a trap I forgot.
See, I bloom like moonflowers—
at night, in silence, divine.
You’re checking clocks, I’m checking chakras.
I’ve got healing on my mind.
They roll eyes when I pause,
smirk when I breathe deep.
I just sip my herbal tea
and let my ancestors speak.
Yes, I missed your drama—
It wasn’t on my calendar.
I was busy growing peace
and moisturizing with lavender.
Some call it “behind,”
I call it “aligned.”
I don’t need your stopwatch—
I was timed by the divine.
So while you flex your followers
and toss tantrums like confetti,
I’m out here minding my sacred,
and seasoning my spaghetti.
See, emotional intelligence?
That’s my favorite spice.
It helps me smile, nod, and say:
“That’s cute, but not my life.”
No, I won’t convince you.
No, I won’t explain.
If growth is too slow for you,
you can jog inside your lane.
Because me? I’m majestic.
In robes of grace, I glide.
A little weird, a lot healed,
and deeply sanctified.
So compare if you must,
compete if you dare—
But I’m the vibe, the peace,
and the glow in the air.
I’m not late. I’m not less.
I’m just exactly where I’m meant.
And if that bothers you—
go heal your petty sentiment.
Now excuse me while I rise,
with incense and a grin,
‘Cause queens don’t chase chaos—
we sip stillness and win. 👑✨
Copyright © 2025 Sherley Delia | All rights reserved.
Healing Majestically 