There is a quiet, here.
My husband is away, so it’s just me and our sleeping children beneath this roof. In this room, it’s just me and my heart quietly whispering away. What is she saying? I’m not entirely sure.
She’s telling me I worry too much.
That I should remember the wind and her sweet softness. How peacefully she blows, without a thought, without a care or question.
She’s telling me she sees me. That even though, sometimes, life’s tenderness swells to the point of overflowing…I’ll always be okay. My tears could fill an ocean some days. After they fall, though, everything seems a little brighter than it did before, and a little softer, perhaps.
I do like the softness very much.
It feels like peace, it feels like calm, it feels like love.