In This Quiet

In This Quiet

by Chuck Craytor

I breathe into the stillness,
where thoughts drift like leaves on water
and the current carries what I no longer need.

The light does not need to be just right.
I do not need to find the focal point.
All that is necessary
is right here, now.

Hear the still point of this moment—
not somewhere else,
not once things align,
but right where I am.

I notice the rhythm of my own heart,
not as a demand,
but as a quiet assurance
that life is always beginning,
even as it ends,
moment after moment.

In this quiet,
I meet myself again—
not the striving,
not the weight of becoming,
but the presence
that simply is.