Backpedaling into life

counts, also.

Blindly progressing

still leaves you

a new person,

a new feeling.

A seed cannot

remain so

for long

once planted.

It leaves its

home for


expansive reaches.

A seed no more

but so much more

than a seed

at the door.

Evolving effortlessly,

a struggle unnecessary.

Nature moves

at her own pace.

March to her

beat or

to the beat of

a different drummer

in your own

cadence & rhythm.

Categories: creative writing, growth, nature, Poetry, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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