Sanctuary

There is a stillness in the early field—

no footfall, no voice but the wind’s soft turning

through the grasses.

I walk alone,

but not lonely,

for solitude is not absence,

but presence unadorned.

Here, the soul takes off its coat,

leaves the names behind—

woman, daughter, worker, friend—

and becomes

only breath,

only birdsong,

only the light

caught trembling on the edge of a stone.

I sit by the creek

and feel the world lean close,

not to ask anything of me,

but to whisper,

You are enough just like this.

And I believe it,

for a while.

 Rivers in the Ocean

 Unknown artist

Unknown Artist