Yesteryears 

Slow it down. Release the chase.

You’re not behind, you’re not a race,

The past can’t hear your cries or screams,

The future’s just a field of dreams.

You spend your seconds throwing stones,

At doors long shut, at distant tones,

You beg the wind to change the tide,

But peace begins from deep inside.

The what ifs drag like rusted chains,

The should haves whisper old refrains, 

But none of them can touch this breath, 

This stillness here, this life, this depth.

So stop, come back, just feel your feet, 

The ground is steady, the air is sweet,

The only thing you have is this:

This beat, this day, this passing bliss.

You get this life, a flame, a song,

Don’t waste it chasing right or wrong,

Don’t miss your joy for phantom fears,

Or drown today in yesteryears. 

Cathrine Hottran 2025