The Art of Becoming

We were always more than what was once,
Hearts reaching out with blind intuition
Like tendrils searching for support
To climb,
To wrap around each other
And ourselves,
Forming into tight knots
Made of layers,
Transforming from what we were
Into what we are
And from what we are
Into what we can be,
Twisting and pushing inward
And outward,
Filling every empty space.

We are more in the future
Than we can ever be
In the past.

Except,
It seems for some,
In our minds.