sometimes
when you have trouble
you can turn to the quiet
and ask it for what you need
sometimes
that’s all you need
sometimes
in the middle of the night
or at the start of day
you don’t need to ask questions
or understand
or talk
sometimes
if you turn to quiet
it gives you what you need
sometimes
the quiet shows you what you need to see
and sometimes
the quiet brightens
and illuminates
even the darkest corners
of your mind
and through quiet
you can finally hear
Girl stands on the porch balcony looking over a setting sun. Air’s misty and thick, swirling little clouds that look like something might happen when nighttime comes.
Looking out to the world there’s this huge body of water. Still and quiet. Barely a ripple even with tugboats and ferries tracing their way across its glassy surface.
Wind catches in her hair and there’s a band of fabric about her waist that joins the dance. Waving around together with that last bit of warmth on her face. In her eyes.
“What do you see when you look out there?” A voice comes from behind. She doesn’t bother to look.
“I see what I always see.”
“And what’s that?”
“Endless space, I guess.”
“It’d be a beautiful picture.”
She shrugs and lifts her hand out catching the piece of fabric that the wind decided to play with.
“The sun’s almost down.”
“I know…”
“I could-”
“You don’t have to go.”
The last bit of light shines from a distance beyond. Dark earth and fire blue pink orange sky. Above, the smokey backdrop. Blanket of cozy purple. Stars just waiting to twinkle.
And somewhere, the moon watching patiently.
It hangs there in the air — what she says. And no one knows what to think or say.
But her eyes… shining bright. Two burning embers glowing as the wind dies down to stillness.
Still night.
Heavy with expectancy. With hope.
They both hesitated, searching for one another.
But in this stillness, the moment lasted forever.
Everything, so quiet now.
Everything, so quiet and soft.
