Whenever I worry what might come next
I take my heart for a walk in these woods
The order here unfolds without conjectured concern or questions of being
Relentless rhythms born only of trust in tomorrow’s transience
There is a voice in my chest that, too, knows such truths
She speaks her spells aloud in song, their melodies washed in the still-water silence of starlight
I can’t say if another sun will rise, or what those hours may hold, but,
With unwavering wonder at what light has already found me this day,
I will do all I can to grow, all according to purpose; not plan.