AROUND THE CORNER

There is a corner in the distance
that feels as near
as the breath before a word—
and another, only one step away,
that seems to belong
to some far-off life.

Strange,
how both are familiar.

The nearer corner whispers,
Turn—
and nothing will remain
as it was.

The distant one says nothing.
It simply waits
beyond the long hush of time,
where what has been
slowly loosens its name.

And I sit between them—
between the turn
my soul has already taken
and the road
my life is still walking.

Perhaps this is why
I feel both polarities:

one is the nearness of knowing,
the other,
the distance of becoming.

One lives inside me
as though it has always been true.
The other moves toward me
from somewhere
I cannot yet see.

So I will not force the corner
to come closer,
nor mistake its distance
for absence.

I will remain here,
where knowing becomes patience
and longing becomes stillness,
until the step
and the horizon
are no longer two—

until truth and time
round the corner
together.