The Quiet Place

There is a place the daylight keeps,
between the hush of clouds and trees,
where time itself forgets to move
and bends like wind-soft memories.

A single bird decides the dawn
with one clear note of trembling gold;
the world wakes slowly in its hands,
as though afraid of growing old.

Here every sorrow learns to breathe,
and every hope remembers why;
the heart uncloses like a leaf
that finds its courage in the sky.

And if you ever lose your name
to storms that strip your branches bare,
come sit within this quiet place—
you’ll hear it whispered back to you there.

For love is not a sudden flame,
nor peace a prize the chosen earn;
they’re seeds asleep beneath the dark,
waiting for anyone to return.