Be Still

Battling the minds urge to move and the body’s desire to rest

Sunday morning, the wind and rain thumping at the windows panes

Be Still

How the mind wants to get up and go, while the body is content to stay put

The mind begins its journey ahead, searching for things to do

Knowing there is always something to be done

It likes to back step into the day before, and before that, rifling through folders of things left behind

Whispers the body

Be still

Eyes closed knowing once opened the trajectory up and forward cannot be stopped

A foot has to follow the other foot, one cannot be left behind

Hurdling you into the day ahead, where the world lies with open arms

Preparing to take you across mountains, valleys of things that must get done

Be still

The body pleads

People wait your reply to their message’s fingers hovering over their keyboards

Not yet, you whisper into the wind, not yet

I’m savouring the quiet, the pillow beneath my head, warm blankets encasing my contented body

Shopping comes to mind; food for the week, work tomorrow, the mind reaches further

Further into missing family, calling a friend, writing a book, the world’s plight

While the body remains comforted, unrushed, sending little memos to slow down

Be still

It’s Sunday, there is no need to hurry, these things are of no urgency

Battling with the mind, the body continues to rest, watching it with its inner eye

Confused at why it has to move right now

There is no logic, no fire to escape from or tornado approaching

Maybe a child whimpers or a husband is unsettled, that’s it

Be still

No need to succumb to the childish boredom of the mind, who tugs at you all day, every day

Allow it to be bored, let it wriggle with discomfort

It soon will settle back down, following the body’s lead

Be still