There is always something.
Something to move toward.
Something to prepare for.
A direction forming.
A sense of what comes next.
The moment is not left alone.
Something is already forming.
And then—
it falls away.
Nothing is added.
And still,
something moves.
A step follows a step.
A word follows a word.
There is no image waiting.
No direction held.
What comes next appears.
There is no need to hold it.
It arrives.
And it is met.
There is no sense of catching up.
The steps are taken.
They do not lead.
They simply follow.
And in that following,
there is no distance.
Nothing needs to be reached.
Nothing needs to be completed.
The movement does not depend.
It continues.
There is no pressure.
No sense of needing to arrive.
It remains.
Still,
something continues.
Not from what was imagined.
Not from what was placed ahead.
But from what is already here.
Continues…