Todo a su tiempo, Everything in its own time... I tell myself this when I become impatient. I've been telling myself this a lot lately, coincidentally at the same time I keep seeing little nests everywhere. All empty, little homes, but at one time filled with promise and hope--when the time was right that promise broke through and sang a glorious song to the day. I must be patient. I can feel my own song wanting to burst through, diligently pecking at its shell.
Y a su tiempo, and in its own time, it will burst through.
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