As the Light Reaches

Breathe in—

the hush between sun and skin,

a warmth that does not rush.

Pause.

The wind moves slowly

through open leaves,

cool as silk

on the back of your hand.

Breathe out.

There is nothing to chase here.

No beginning.

No end.

Only this.

The light finds you gently—

not all at once,

but in soft waves,

touching eyelids,

cheeks,

the quiet space beneath your collarbone.

Rest.

The world holds still

just long enough

for you to hear

the beat beneath the silence.

A bird drifts above,

its wings cutting

through the sky

with no hurry.

Breathe in—

deep into the belly,

where calm begins.

The air smells of earth,

faint and real.

A trace of rain,

still clinging to the branches.

Pause.

Let the moment settle.

Let yourself belong.

No need to understand—

just feel

this steady rhythm,

this slow unfolding

of now.

Breathe out.

And stay.