No need to chase the moment,
it’s already here,
settled like mist
on a quiet morning field.
Your breath,
like the wind through tall grass,
knows the rhythm of letting go.
Sit beneath the wide sky;
Let your thoughts drift
like birds without names.
The world does not rush,
the trees stand.
The river moves,
but never hurries.
Peace is not a place to find.
It is what remains
when you stop searching.
A calm silence,
settled deep
and rooted still.
Still, in the soul’s quiet,
in the sacred
hollows of the heart,
and in its wide stillness.
©®Madhumita.
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