A boat moves away from the harbor,
while still tied to it—leaving only to return,
like waves rising to fall.
Something is changing,
nothing good, nothing bad,
it just is—like everything else.
The winds cross the farmlands,
carrying new seeds,
creating space to fill,
opening only to close,
breathing in
only to breathe out.
Something is shifting,
nothing big, nothing small,
It’s perfect—
just like everything else.