Today I sipped a slice of sky, then sank in a storm of Quiet. We have differing words for it, I call it Stillness
It wakes me up: to just be. To lull. To leave human error
grows Trees in my heart; they do Psalms like palms, deep within
where deserts run like Streams not saying syllables, just be-ing.
Call it Laze. Between the stench of screaming headlines and darkness,
to even sit back down….sigh. The healing. Allow me to make clear my case for those of us who cannot tolerate this non mobile function:
done in the truth of its very existence: to laze, in its right steam, is to sink into the sky. Perhaps then, a human might see a piece of them self, wanting, even more clarity on their status with the unseen.
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