Sometimes silence is clarity

A vision into what the eyes haven't met yet

A soft light reaching into a once shallow mind

Struggles flinch across the face

Tearing it down like a weary road

As though miles of movement has settled

on its surface

Moments are juggled, clipped and held together

A season of seeking, of growth, of quiet submission

Drawn into the lane of realisation

I learnt this truth:

Behind every hardnuts, there are hidden pore spaces where prosperity lives within

Written by Asmau's pen 🖊