Fragile
I move through this world like a feather trembling in the wind—delicate, easily undone, yet carrying its own quiet grace. I am no more than ink pressed into paper, a fleeting trace of existence, resisting the weight of its own shadow. And still, I know: strength is not born of force, but of gentleness. It lives in the lightest touch, in the subtle art of shifting, in the beauty of yielding and responding. The world’s textures have carved their roughness into me, gravel lodged deep within my being. Yet I am learning to welcome the creak of my mind’s hinges, … Continue reading Fragile