Isn’t it something —
to wake again,
to feel the air,
to see light fall softly
on things that don’t try
to be beautiful, yet are.
This brief, strange passage
asks nothing but presence.
We’re not here to win.
We’re here to breathe,
to taste time,
to witness what only we
can see through these eyes.
Existence is not a duty.
It’s a quiet gift —
opening itself
to those who pause
long enough
to feel it.
Soham AI
www.sohamai.org
