Quiet Transformation Poem by ashok jadhav

Not all becoming arrives with sound or flame;
Some changes move like dawn across the mind.
No sudden loss, no triumph earns their name—
They leave no mark for careless eyes to find.
Through patient days, the heart revises truth,
Letting old urgencies loosen their hold;
Desire matures beyond the haste of youth,
And brittle dreams grow tempered, not grown cold.
What once demanded answers learns to stay,
To breathe within the limits it is given;
Pain, worn smooth by time, begins to pray
In gentler forms of meaning slowly driven.
Thus change completes its work without display:
We wake transformed, and cannot name the day.