Stillness

The sky spills its colours,
shifting from soft lavender
to a bold, burning orange
breezes weave through trees,
leaving behind whispers of stories
once told, untold, remembered, lost
tales of forgotten mornings,
and dreams that never quite took root

the ground beneath me hums—
not with noise, but with an ancient
pulse, dip dip beep
a rhythm older than my thoughts,
pushing up through the soles of my
shoes, reminding me of that stillness,
of the failures successes as illusion

I let my feet follow the path,
though it’s less a way than a question,
the earth offering no answers,
only the quiet inimitable hum
of its knowing

the world spins as I hold my breath,
waiting for something to break the silence,
but all that comes is the rustle of leaves,
a reminder that everything is already in motion,
from the brand new hue to the old bland view
even when we know we stand still