I want to tell you about the stillness at the centre of my being.
I want to tell you what happens when I listen close;
When I pause long enough for the tears to come,
Long enough to feel the warm sun on my skin,
To notice the light in the trees,
The smell of autumn, damp leaves and chill, on the morning air.
I want to tell you what happens
When your hands press gently
Against my collarbones,
Your thumb along my temples,
Your forehead against my back.
I want to tell you how I find myself
When my centre has gone missing;
When the noise of the world grows loud,
When I feel lost inside and about myself.
There are many roads back to stillness;
Quiet paths, strewn with fallen leaves,
Smooth stones, and fresh tears.
How long till I awaken?
How long will it take me to come home?