Poem about change

 The Shape of Change

Change is the wind that shakes the trees,
A whispered truth upon the breeze.
It turns the green to fire-bright,
Then folds the day into the night.

It is the tide that knows no rest,
The beating heart within the chest.
A silent guest we cannot flee—
It shapes not just the world, but me.

It breaks, it builds, it gently mends,
It pulls apart and then it blends.
A bitter tear, a joyous call—
The rise again after the fall.

Though comfort lies in staying still,
It’s change that bends us to our will.
And in its hands, so wild and wide,
We learn to let, to trust, to ride.

So here’s to roads that twist and turn,
To bridges crossed, and things we learn.
For every ending, raw and strange,
Begins a softer, wiser change.