When the Dreamer Pauses

A statement once read made me pause and think.

It said

we cannot change where we began,

only where we are headed.

But tell me,

what if the path itself is asking you to stop?

What if the mountain you climbed

was never meant to be conquered,

but to be felt

stone against skin, silence against breath

until you remembered

why you began walking at all?

When the noise fades,

do you still hear your own heart?

When success bows before you,

do you bow back

or do you move on,

before it even finishes its bow?

You build, and build, and build.

But what have you touched

that did not need fixing?

What have you created

that learned how to hold you?

Does the sea chase its own waves?

Does the cherry tree bloom

to prove its worth?

Or does it simply flower,

because that is its way of praying?

If your name echoes across cities,

will it echo within you too?

And when you have reached the farthest light,

will you know peace

or only the next sunrise calling

for another climb?

Tell me,

what is the dream,

when the dreamer finally pauses?