It only takes a reminder to deep breathe,
a moment to be still,
and just like that,
something in me settles, softens, and
makes space for imperfection.
The harsh voice of judgement drops to a whisper
and I remember again that life
isn't a relay race;
that we will all cross the finish line;
that waking up to life
is what we were born for.
As many times as I forget,
I catch myself charging forward
without even knowing where I'm going,
that many times I can make the choice
to stop, to breathe, and to and be,
and walk slowly into the mystery.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem