When I was deciding what to post today, I chose a short little poem that was in a journal. It just gave me pause to slow down, take the day as it comes, and enjoy even the moments when maybe not much is happening because sometimes in those moments, we are expanding without knowledge exponentially.
Blessed be the days when there is nothing to celebrate.
The quiet afternoons of contemplating what to do.
When there is no one’s lips you need to relapse on.
When you’re content to watch the stars and just wander empty streets at night.
Blessed be, the days
I am content with the historian I have been,
How I’ve written the days I could do anything I want,
With scents that still cling to me, great rooms where I spent Saturdays
When nobody visited me. Dreams of cliffs and islands,
Hours of weathered downpours. Blessed be,
The hours of nothing.
It is something to be in waiting.
When the world will not reveal a word, I urge you
Take the silence. Dream without pictures.
Drown in quiet. Sometimes we need to become reservoirs,
Where no leaks can touch us. Blessed be
The still place where nothing can escape our understanding,
Where the solitude and security of silence are allowed to echo.
Blessed be, this place
Where we only grow stronger.