The Gentle Art of Being

 


A gentle hush descends, a welcome ease,

The frantic rhythm softens to appease.

No urgent call, no striving to attain,

Just quietude, a soothing, sun-kissed rain.


The air hangs still, a golden, hazy hue,

Washing the world in calmness, fresh and new.

The busy thoughts that clamored in my head,

Now drift away, like feathers from a bed.


I linger now in moments, soft and slow,

Where whispering breezes gently come and go.

They brush my skin with coolness, light and mild,

And carry scents of blossoms, sweet and wild.


The world unfolds, a landscape bathed in light,

And shadows dance, embracing day and night.

Long shadows stretch as evening starts to creep,

While sunlight paints the clouds before I sleep.


Released from burdens, worries left behind,

A peaceful solace for the heart and mind.

The weight I carried, heavy on my soul,

Has lifted now, and I feel whole.


No need to chase a fleeting, distant dream,

Just bask within this tranquil, flowing stream.

The river whispers secrets to the shore,

Of patience, peace, and what I'm living for.


The vibrant hues of nature softly gleam,

A tapestry of wonder, it would seem.

The green of leaves, the blue of summer skies,

A gentle comfort for my tired eyes.


The birdsong whispers melodies so sweet,

A lullaby, a comforting retreat.

A Babbler's chirp, a dove's soft, cooing sound,

A symphony of peace, on sacred ground.


I breathe it in, this freedom I embrace,

A simple grace within this sacred space.

The worries fade, the anxieties cease,

Replaced by calm, and inner, gentle peace.


No striving now, no yearning to ascend,

Just being present, till the very end.

Contentment settles, deep within my breast,

A quiet joy, a sweet and welcome guest.


And in this quiet, I can truly see,

The boundless beauty meant for only me.

The intricate patterns on a butterfly's wing,

The silent lessons that the moments bring.


A time to rest, to gather strength anew,

And find the peace that always sees me through.

The earth supports me, steady and so strong,

Whispering, "You belong, you are mine, you are the man ."


This fleeting freedom, a precious, gentle art,

A calming balm that soothes the weary heart.

A moment held, a memory to keep,

While worries fade and troubles fall asleep.


For in this grace, I find my truest worth,

A silent blessing whispered from the earth.

A gentle promise, whispered on the breeze,

Of solace found, and inner, lasting ease.


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