Promises to come
Promises to pass
Never too late
Never too early.
In it you know not what will be birthed,
and what shall breath its last.
It has a quality of predictability
in the certainty of bringing about countless changes.
Yet, its mysteries lie in what each transition holds.
It carries you,
All the while drowning you.
It is for you.
It is against you.
It either leads you to forgiveness
Or brews in you bitterness.
Time has a way of unfolding each delicate petal.
And if you allow it,
Time shall bloom in you
something beautiful within every season.