The Quiet Language of Stillwaters

Sometimes the most important shift is not far away but simply elsewhere. A change of scenery loosens the weight of routine, softens the noise of the everyday, and opens space for renewal.

This reflection first arrived as a longer free verse meditation on release and realignment—the way a quiet shore teaches me to breathe differently. From it, I drew a lyrical echo, a smaller poem that keeps the same truth in softer rhythm.

The Quiet of Elsewhere

Not every view was meant to stay,
some call us near, then fade away.
A shift of light, a quiet shore,
reminds my soul of something more.

To pause, to breathe, to realign,
release what’s heavy, no longer mine.
For in new skies, I learn to see,
the gentle work of setting free.

The Quiet Language of Stillwaters

 When I step beyond the scenery of my every day,
the noise loosens its grip.
The endless tasks, reminders, and routines
slip off my shoulders,
and my mind opens wider—
a field cleared for new thoughts to arrive,
for silence to hum its own truth.

 In these spaces,
my body softens into ease.
Happiness roots itself in me,
and my spirit grows light—
tuned to every detail,
to the wings of butterflies,
to the trees that shift in the breeze,
singing songs authored by the universe.
All I must do is listen.
All I must do is transcribe.

 If the lake itself could speak,
its voice would be tranquility,
its language: trust,
its gift: calmness
folded into every ripple and reflection.

 And when I return,
I carry renewal like a lantern.
Refreshed, strengthened,
I take the lessons back with me.
What stays behind
is the soul wide open,
the true receiver of wonder,
the hollow bone I long to remain.

 I practice, again and again,
this way of being,
hoping one day it becomes as natural
as the inhale and exhale of breath.

With Grace & Ink,

Mai