بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Metamorphosis

don't need to stay like a hurricane, rather turn into a gentle breeze, experience tells me not to blow people away, 'cause it's not like their trees, waiting to be lifted out the way, blown into things that aren't supposed to move or lean. gotta lay easy the metaphors and similes, not drown them with soliloquies of futures they've never seen, though words come like liquid or breathing for me, but for most they're probably an acquired taste, just so they can learn what things mean. also found I can't rush fate, it takes its time like bread needs to rise, can't make it too hot too fast, or it'll burn to a crisp, leaving the inside unbaked and going bad. somehow gotta change my speed to match what others need, move in step with their pace, so we might reach in stride, that Tomorrow from dreams.