Do not seek beginnings in the clamor of change.
They are born in stillness—
in the breath drawn softly after sorrow,
in the fragile hush between what has fallen away
and what has yet to unfold.

Each breath is a vow renewed with life.
It steadies what wavers,
gathers what has been scattered,
and carries the heart, almost imperceptibly,
toward becoming.

The future is not forged in haste,
but formed in the patient rhythm of endurance—
in the quiet faith that dares to move
before the light has fully come,
trusting the unseen to hold.

What feels fragile now will one day endure.
From every breath, a foundation takes shape—
invisible, steadfast, eternal—
until the heart, tempered through persistence,
becomes the quiet architecture of all that will be.

So breathe—
not as one waiting for deliverance,
but as one already dwelling within grace.
For each breath is a consecration,
each exhale an offering to the coming dawn—
and from this steady rhythm of being
tomorrow is woven,
bright and unbroken,
within you.

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