An invitation

to be still.

My body. that is.

   My senses, however, are alive

   as I watch

   and look

   and pay attention.

Not only to what swirls around me . . .

the clouds

the deep blue sky

the droop of the tired sunflower.

   No, I also feel the body tension:

   the tight shoulders,

   the heart-ache

   as I’ve absorbed

   grief and sadness and despair

   fear and confusion

   just this last week.

This, amidst joy and celebration

and other good things.

   It is good to be quiet.

   To watch, to listen, to smell, to feel.

   To observe what is around me,

   to listen to what is within me.

In this moment . . .

this quiet moment

of observation

and reflection,

I stop.

   I breathe.

   Deep breaths soaked in love,

   filled with courage.

   Because deep in this heart

   there is a knowing

   that I am not alone.