cocoon

Waking to snow,

deep quiet,

feathered flakes,

whispers of wind,

and no one going anywhere.

Time pauses,

takes a break.

Why was I rushing around

all these days past?

What was the hurry, the worry?

Plans have now shifted,

busy has been put on hold.

My old clock softly ticks,

keeping time.

Really, dear clock?

Keeping time?

You keep it only long enough to measure its

passing,

and before you can tick again, it’s

gone.

And yet, this morning,

time is asking to be kept,

held,

witnessed

in this white cocoon,

this quiet tiptoe of a morning

waking to snow.

–kh–

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Carry the Calm