Day 2: Quiet


There is a verse that always took my breath,

one I will carry close to my heart until we part by death.

I put it to use for the joy that it brings,

I keep it as a reminder, life is in the little things.

A new venture and the courage to try it,

a soft tear and gentle finger to dry it.

A moment to breathe and rest in the quiet.


Words of wisdom often come in disguise,

a kind stranger with soft eyes.

The right moment to take a knee.

beautiful birds on a gentle breeze,

following a hearty request to be free.

It comes with a dream much bigger than the rest…


I’m standing on the mountain in the middle of a storm,

listening for my purpose at the peak of its form.

I ride out the tempest as truly as I can,

but who am I kidding, I’m only human.

I fall to my knees putting faith in something more,

I’m learning to see by faith and that’s what heart is for.

The storm passes but the rocks shift and shake,

as the earth at my feet erupts into a quake.


The power exchange isn’t held in the Maelstrom,

so again I wait, still beating at my own drum.

Through the confusion, the rumble comes to a conclusion.

Leaving me with a heap of rubble as silence slices the deluge then.


A bird flies by on a gentle wind, and that’s when I hear the voice within.


I am here and have been, just look at what you’ve been given,

the rocks at your feet will build an empire if you’re driven.

You won’t find the answers in a mighty gust, 

you won’t find it in the grand acts, but try if you must.

Through the trials and tribulations, faith creates a garden.

forgive yourself you must, for that is who you must beg pardon,

all you need is a mustard seed and that’s what moved this mountain.

Once you do abundance flow as if coming from a fountain.


… and Don’t forget to take a moment to cherish the process, 

appreciate the calluses, and be grateful for the pain,

that is how you will earn your grain…”


I close my eyes and listen to the beating wings,

as I try to absorb all these beautiful things.


My faith in the journey led me to the life of a little red hen.

If I sow the seeds and pick out all the weeds,

If I water and care for it, all the while retaining my wit,


If I am true to this formula and avoid the fallacious dreams,

and live by the  promise to appreciate the little things,

I will reap a garden befitting kings,

because that is what hard work brings.


I will build myself a plot so beautiful and so vast,

One full to bursting with the fruits that I’ve amassed.

And all of this, because of a passage I once read,

Extending a treasure map for me to dream of from my bed.

So here I am, I will go, I wish to be the seed you sow.









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