Steadying the Helm – A Poet’s Prose.

Steadying the Helm
Nothing has broken,
yet something has moved,
no waves are rising,
no peace disproved.

The waters are quiet,
the sky holds its light,
no storm in the distance,
no need for a fight.
Yet deep in the stillness,
I feel the slight sway,
a shift in the current
I cannot delay.

Where once I moved freely,
unthinking, at ease,
I now move with care
like a hand on the seas.
No panic within me,
no tightening hold,
just quiet intention,
steady and controlled.

No need to chase voices
to prove I remain,
no turning to coldness
in silence or pain.

So here at the helm,
I choose to stand true,
not lost in the movement,
not changed by the view.

For even in shifting,
one thing overwhelms—
To not lose myself
while steadying the helm.