The Quiet Above

 The stars have known stillness since before there was breath to name it.
They watched the first fires burn, the first hearts beat,
and they never hurried.
They understand what I am just beginning to learn—
that stillness isn’t the absence of motion,
it’s the pulse between moments,
the inhale that holds the universe in suspension.

 When I stand beneath them, I feel both ancient and new.
I can almost hear the echo of all who’ve looked up before me,
those who wondered where we came from
and why the dark feels like home.
Their curiosity hums through me,
a thread of remembering that stretches across time.

 To be still is not to stop; it is to be in.
In breath, in sight, in sound, in the quiet dance of existence.
The stars already know this.
They’ve been teaching it forever—
not through answers,
but through their patience to simply be.

Spell for Stillness

By the stars’ slow-turning grace,
I learn the rhythm time won’t chase.
No voice, no rush, no call to climb—
just breath that folds itself in time.

Let questions fade like smoke set free;
what’s meant will drift back home to me.
The quiet hums, the night forgives,
and every stillness softly lives.

So may I rest where echoes start,
with open eyes and steady heart.
The stars remind what souls have known—
to be still is to come home.

 With Grace & Ink,
  Mai