Sit still—
not to flee the world,
but to feel it
sift through your breath.
The wind does not hurry,
yet it shapes the mountain.
You, too,
were not made to rush.
A thought rises—
let it pass
like a leaf
on a silent stream.
Beneath the noise,
beneath the want,
beneath the ache—
there is you.
Unshaken.
Unfolding.
Like dawn
beneath the dark.
So breathe.
Return.
Not to escape,
but to remember
you are already here.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and light,
Brenda Marie
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