Mindfulness

When shadows stretch across the day,

the light feels worlds and years away.

When voices echo sharp and cold,

my every breath feels weak and old.

There lies a hush beneath the storm,

a softer space, a different form.

Not made of answers, loud or clear,

but of a stillness drawing near.

A single breath, my sacred thread,

it pulls me back from fear I dread.

My chest will rise, the lungs will fill,

the pain may just learn to still.

My mind, a sea in restless wave,

finds moment’s shore, serene and brave.

No need to fix, to flee, to fight;

I've notice now, and hold it light.

A teardrop caught upon the skin

becomes the place where I begin.

Not to escape, but just to be,

a witness to my own mercy.

The dark does not dissolve in haste,

nor sorrow leave without a trace.

But mindfulness, like a lantern’s gleam,

has guided me gently through the dreams.

So I breathe and return, again, again,

as each moment met becomes my friend.

Darkness stayed and hope begins, I find my strength by looking in.