Beneath the Grey Skies

Breathe in,

slow,

like the hush before rain.

Let your shoulders fall,

let the weight go.

There is nothing to carry here.

Cloudlight softens the morning,

a veil stretched across the sky.

You feel it settle,

cool on your skin,

a quiet kind of grace.

Breathe out.

Let it pass.

Let it pass.

The wind stirs gently,

not to move you,

but to remind you

you are here.

Still.

Present.

Enough.

Your fingertips trace the rhythm

of falling leaves,

each one

a pause.

A breath.

No urgency.

No rush.

Just the slow unfolding

of this moment.

Rest.

Even the earth does.

Even the trees wait.

The world holds its breath

so you can find yours.

Breathe in.

The grey above is not empty.

It holds light,

and silence,

and the space you need.

Let it be.

Let yourself be.

Still.