In the hush of dawn, where shadows breathe,
A whispered question stirs beneath—
A gentle pulse within the heart:
Where am I going? Where do I start?
The rivers glide, the forests grow,
And stars above in endless flow—
Yet here you stand, a restless soul,
A wanderer seeking to feel whole.
Not in the roar of distant fame,
Nor titles stamped beside your name.
Not in treasures gold can buy,
Nor fleeting glimmers passing by.
Your purpose hums beneath the skin,
A song the wind invites within.
A hidden light, both fierce and shy,
A flame you guard without knowing why.
To find it is a tender quest,
A winding road with no request,
But patience, courage, and the grace
To meet your doubts and not efface.