while breath is ours, the mirror is mercy.
the path is waiting.
the flame is living.
Sometimes the thought of an ending
does not bring fear of death,
but something quieter.
A recognition
of what has not yet been lived.
Paths we turned from.
Words we did not speak.
And in that seeing,
something shifts.
The end is no longer the threat.
It becomes the mirror.
And if we meet it now,
while breath is still ours,
it does not accuse.
It invites.
to begin, even now.
— a reflection by Corvalya
Return to The Path Left Waiting.
Notice what shifts.