there is a pause
at the final turning
of November,
before the season
firmly closes,
that may be entered
if the juncture
between foot and path
is timed just so
there stillness rests
in cool absolute –
a mantle of calm,
a lesson in breath
© Sarah Whiteley
today I shall be not quite
and content with blurred edges
companioned by sounds that are muffled
by the silences my maybe head makes
today I shall sit and be potentially
with a chance of feasibility
and the rustle of a few quiet thoughts
that might or might not be there
today I shall be perchance
and take rest in the promise of my perhaps
while softly September might possibly stir
whatever is or is not here
© Sarah Whiteley
To say that I am tired would be an understatement. The first of the work deadlines is behind me and it was Brutal (yes, with a capital ‘B’) – long days and no weekends and a forced working pace that nearly brought me to tears a few times. So it’s no surprise that I’ve got quite a bit of post reading to catch up on. Today, however, I think will be about recovery. I’ll eventually get around to catching up, but I think my sanity insists upon a little ‘disconnect’ for now.
lately I find myself
choosing silence –
the quiet night
as it breathes
cool dreams
across the white sill –
in the soft stirring calm
I almost can follow
in blissful drifts
deeper into the hollow
of sky above
stars below
and all the heavens
before me
© Sarah Whiteley
ebbtide 