Sprout of Gentleness

When the sprout of gentleness
softly unfurls deep within the chest,
the world takes one deep breath.

The days spent swaying in someone else's shadow
like memories fallen onto the water's surface
are quietly sinking away.

The color of the wind changed
not because the scenery outside shifted,
but because the sleeping spring
received the light.

A single word
gently warms the soil,
and the sprout of gentleness
grows at a speed so subtle it goes unnoticed.

When you touch someone's radiance,
a small leaf trembles deep in your chest.
It is not jealousy,
but a faint light
illuminating your future self.

The act of believing
is not a grand resolution,
but resembles the way one watches over a budding sprout.
It is a stillness like
gently cradling the sprout of gentleness,
which seems as though it might break if touched.

Again today,
a single word falls,
drawing a pale circle,
and within the expansion of that circle,
the world is gradually
changing into a softer shape.