a million ways

There are a million ways to surrender,
but none of them are part of my path.
I passed them all and walked on,
past soft temptations and sharp silences,
through the ache of almost
and the pull of what-if.

I kept walking,
barefoot through storms,
eyes dry beneath thunder-heavy skies.
I listened to the wind lie,
heard the night whisper, “stay still,”
but rest is a language I never learned.

Until I stood where the starline kisses the ocean,
where the horizon does not choose sides,
where the water forgets every name it once held.
I breathed in,
not surrender.
Only peace.
Serenity ran through my veins
like a memory returning home.