Not Yet, But Soon

I used to think that wanting something made it mine,
That hunger proved my purpose, sealed by fate and time.
So I reached for shining dreams I couldn’t hold,
Chasing stories I was never ready to be told.
They sparkled from a distance, called out loud,
Promised me a place above the crowd.
And I believed without a second thought
That desire alone was all that strength had taught.

But slowly things began to slip away,
Not all at once, but day by fragile day.
I grew tired in ways I couldn’t explain,
Carrying weight that only brought me pain.
Even the little peace I used to know
Faded quietly, soft and slow.
Joy turned distant, balance disappeared,
As I chased everything I once revered.   Follow us on WhatsApp

And then it hit me, deep and true.
The dream was never wrong… I just outgrew
The version of myself that tried too soon
To hold a sun while still afraid of noon.

It hurts to say, “I’m not there yet,”
To face the truth we often forget:
That timing matters just as much as will,
That growth must come before the climb uphill.

But there’s a quiet strength in standing still,
In learning patience, in bending to build skill,
In doing work that no one else can see,
And slowly shaping who you’re meant to be.

Now I don’t rush what I can’t sustain,
I don’t confuse ambition with silent strain.
I take my time, I learn, I grow,
I trust the pace I’m meant to know.

Because what’s the point of reaching high
If what you catch will pass you by?
Or worse, it will break you in your hands,
Because you couldn’t meet its demands?

So I’ll prepare, I’ll take my time,
I’ll strengthen my heart, I’ll sharpen my mind.
And when I reach again one day,
I won’t be lost along the way.

It won’t be need, it won’t be fear,
But quiet strength that brings me near.
And when I finally hold that dream,
I’ll know exactly what it means:
Not luck, not chance, not borrowed tune,
Just growth that whispered: not yet… but soon.