Author’s Note
For a long time, I confused standing still with failure.
Like if I wasn’t moving fast enough, succeeding quickly enough, becoming who I wanted to be on everyone else’s timeline—then maybe the people doubting me were right.
But growth rarely looks clean while you’re inside it.
Sometimes progress is just continuing to move, even when fear, uncertainty, or other people’s expectations try to keep you frozen in place.
This piece sits in that space between doubt and momentum.
Between hearing the warnings… and still feeling the pull forward anyway.
Because there are moments in life where the call toward something bigger becomes louder than the voices telling you to stay where you are.
And eventually— you either trust that pull,
or spend your whole life wondering what would’ve happened if you did.
— Rowan Evans
The Waves That Call Me
Poetry by Rowan Evans
I stood on the shoreline,
eyes locked
on ocean waves—
pain and longing
painted across my face.
I feel stuck in place,
like I forgot
I’m trying to win
the race.
But I’ve got dreams
to chase.
One foot
and then the other—
even as they doubt me.
They shout:
“Not a snowball’s chance in—”
Well—
leave them puddles
at my feet.
I thrive in heat.
They think
they’ve got room
to talk,
trying to still
my walk
with warnings.
They try
to warn me.
They say—
only time will tell.
But she’s not speaking.
Thinking—
I’m a failure.
That’s what
they said to me.
If I’m a failure,
then I’m glad—
opposites attract,
and success is coming
down the track.
I may have turned,
taken the long way around—
but I’ve got dreams,
and I don’t plan
to back down.
So I stand on the edge,
shoreline stretching
without end—
but it’s the waves
that call me.
If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]
Poetry by Rowan Evans 