Purpose on Pause

He asked my purpose—  

I laughed.  

It’s changed like playlists on shuffle.  

First, it was metal wings,  

Flying high to make them proud.  

Then the words, the books, the ink—  

Still chasing the same thing.

Then came my son,  

And everything flipped,  

Now I was building him up,  

While I let myself slip.

Now I’m here, floating in the space,  

No plans, no rush, no race.  

Am I stuck, or just at peace?  

Is my fire dimming, or finding release?  

I used to have goals, dreams, ambition,  

Now I sit with no clear mission.  

Is this freedom, or just a phase?  

No answers, just vibes these days.  

Maybe this is where the magic lives—  

No plans, just faith, and what He gives.

©️ Priya Jain