Whispers Of Stillness

By Kevin Flores Janssen

In the gentle silence, mindfulness writes, each word a quiet carving,
Mind’s eye roams, its path undeterred, in the garden of calming.

Beneath the whispering pine, the world in soft repose,
Pages turn with grace, as the wind of wisdom blows.

Words float like autumn leaves, in the air of serene scenes,
Each syllable is a breath, where stillness intervenes.

The cup of tea cools slowly, steam rising like morning mist,
In the quiet, words are jewels; mindfulness cannot resist.

A candle flickers, casting shadows on the thoughts that dance,
In the light, the pen moves, giving trance a chance.

Ink spills like rivers merging, thoughts to paper bound,
In the hush of early dusk, peace is written, found.

Gentle hands lay down the pen, as stars begin their nightly weaving,
Mindfulness in script concludes, in the trust of quiet believing.

With every stroke, the pen moves slowly, the rush allaying,
A tranquil dance of script, in timeless grace parlaying.

Saffron hues bleed at dusk, each line a soft entwining,
A mindful script unfolds, where silence meets the shining.

Threads of thought like dew on webs, glistening, never straying,
In each loop and swirl, mindfulness keeps swaying.

Beneath the moon’s silent gaze, ink flows deeper still,
Every word is a gentle step, upon the mindful hill.

Echoes of the day’s noise, softly fading into night,
The pen’s path clears the fog, with each stroke of light.

As dawn whispers through the curtains, a new page turns in sight,
Mindfulness fills the air, with the day’s first light.

In stillness, words unfold, each thought a careful carving,
Mind’s eye wanders wide, its quiet depth unswerving.

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Photo by Ioann-Mark Kuznietsov on Unsplash