The Compass of Now

The past is a room we visit in dreams,

its doors creak open, its light dimmed in seams.

The future’s a road that bends out of sight,

painted in whispers, not yet in the light.

But here—

this breath, this glance, this step on the ground,

is the only true kingdom you’ll ever have found.

The wind in your hair, the taste of your tea,

the hum of the street, the sway of the tree—

These are the coins you can spend without debt,

the treasures no clock can make you regret.

Hold them, taste them, let them unfold,

for the present is richer than silver or gold.

Life isn’t waiting—it’s already begun,

in the warmth of your skin, in the touch of the sun.

So walk without hurry, breathe without vow,

for the compass of joy always points to now.