[Verse 1] At dawn my yesterday lies open on the page, I weigh my turns again, a quiet inner gauge, Some choices feel like rivers polished into stone, Some need a gentler hand, replanted, slowly grown. [Verse 2] I watch the minutes drift like lanterns in the sky, And ask if what I chose was meant, or just a why, When pride grows sharp, I set it down and let it rest, Then water one small habit till it knows my best. [Bridge 1] The compass isn’t loud; it hums beneath the tide, A silver thread of sense that pulls me to its side, I breathe, let doubt be dust that settles in the glass, And keep my hands on faith while changes learn to pass. [Verse 3] In crowded days I miss the signs beside the door, So evening brings them back in whispers on the floor, If I was wrong, I name it softly, not as blame, I turn that truth to candlelight and keep the flame. [Verse 4] I sand the roughest corners of my plans by hand, Like waves that smooth a glassy shell from stubborn sand, No sudden perfect proof, just small repairs in view, A kinder next step waiting, simple, steady, new. [Bridge 2] Between the yes and no, there’s still a quiet room, Where every second offers either shade or bloom, I practice gentle shifts, the steady work to mend, Until the line I drew can turn, and not pretend. [Verse 5] And still I ask at sunrise, was the turning right? Not to carve myself in guilt, but to adjust the light, For every choice is clay; it dries, then can be re-kneaded, And every day is ground where better seeds are needed. [Outro] So if my answer wavers, I don’t call it shame, I hold it like a paper boat and bless its name, I’ll keep refining gently, step by patient step, Till what I choose becomes what love has kept.
