My Shield
I move in my own tide. No world can hurry me.
Pressure is not mine. I let it pass through.
If it tightens, I stop. My body knows the way.
The fog is not a failure. It is the place before clarity.
My yes is sacred. I give it only when it opens me.
Nothing urgent is true for me. I wait. My truth settles.
I stand at the edge, where the air is clear, where rhythm returns.
I live by inner time. Quiet. Steady. Whole.













