Trust the pace.

So we walk hand in hand.

We walk instead of running.

We know the empire is coming.

So today we walk.

Taking up the space of this moment. Hold it. Console it.

Soon the race will require fast pace. Proceeding those moments with sweet memories of the good ‘ole days. The memory of sweet serenity. Where walking was all that was necessary.

Trusting oneself and the timing. Divine.