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.
©®Madhumita
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