Sun spilled across my pillow this morning
like honey from a broken jar.
I watched it pool and spread:
First my fingers
Then my palm
Finally my wrist
Time moves differently in amber light.
Is that why we can’t catch it?
sometimes the quietest thoughts speak the loudest. This is a collection of moments - observations, questions, and wanderings that unfold like paper birds.
each entry stands alone, yet together they tell a story of stillness, of seeing the world through eyes that notice the spaces between seconds and the weight of unspoken words.
join me 3 times a week for a new moment of pause.
Welcome to Unfolds.