The Unmaking

In the quiet dissolution of what was,

I find myself observer and observed—

watching the careful architecture of self

crumble like autumn leaves

returning to earth.

This sensitivity, this raw tenderness

to life's perpetual motion,

strips away the comfortable numbness

that once shielded me

from feeling the world's pulse

beneath my skin.

Now I sense the tide before it turns,

the shadow before it falls,

the ending woven into every beginning

like silver thread through dark cloth.

By grace—not my own doing—

I am unmade and remade,

dissolved and reformed,

learning to move as water moves:

yielding, flowing,

finding the path of least resistance

while carving new channels

through the landscape of becoming.

The ebb teaches me to release,

the flow carries me forward,

and in this dance between

holding on and letting go,

I discover that transformation

is not a destination

but a way of being—

always at the edge

of what I was

and what I'm becoming,

sensitive to the sacred rhythm

that breathes through

all things.