The ground remembers every foot. Only if we listen while we move. We walked before we named the reason, Before the map, before the plan, The sun leaned low to point the way, The dust learned every span. Mistakes weren’t scars, they were signals, The wrong turn taught us how to see, Every path that didn’t hold us Gently set our direction free. I followed water by its patience, Not the fastest way, but true, It curved because it paid attention To what the land was asking it to do. Every sound became a question, Every shadow held a clue, You don’t find where you are going If you don’t notice where you’re through. Pay attention to your footing, Pay attention to the sky, Direction isn’t speed or force, It’s how you pass things by. The road responds to listening, Not to will or might or when— If you notice where you’re going, You begin again. We didn’t outrun hunger or storms, We learned their warning tone, The body knew before the mind When it was time to turn for home. Attention wasn’t hesitation, It was survival dressed as grace, The future stayed a step ahead Only if we watched our place. What if the path is paying us back For every moment we attend? What if direction is a conversation That doesn’t need to end? Pay attention to the quiet, To the pull beneath your feet, The world will show you where to go If you let it speak. No straight line drawn in certainty, No finish promised then— Just notice where you’re going now, And begin again. The horizon shifts when you do. So keep your eyes open.
