Breath

That which we are we can not change.

It has built up on us over the passing years,

for good or ill.

It makes us what we are,

who we are.

Every action,

every thought,

a brush stroke on our canvas.

Day by day we grow,

we mature,

we die a little.

The burdens grow heavy,

we bend beneath the weight,

but that too molds us,

defines us.

Every scar,

every wrinkle

adding to our uniqueness,

our beauty.

We are the sum of our past

and the dreams of our future

all blended together in a timeless tapestry.

We exist as a breath,

a wisp of the divine thought.

We are,

and that is all we can be.