
Don’t chase the wind, don’t fear the day,
What is yours will find its way.
Like rivers flowing to the sea,
What’s meant for you will come to be.
You plant the seed, you wait and care,
The flower blooms when time is fair.
No need to rush, no need to cry,
The stars will meet you in the sky.
A missed goodbye, a door once closed,
Might lead to paths not yet exposed.
So breathe, be still, and softly say:
“What is mine will find its way.”
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