When I stop,
time when the dust settles
streaming through the sunbeam,
is when I can’t hold my
hopes up any longer.
Rest.
All I need is rest.
When the chase ends,
when the sweat settles on skin,
I feel cold, icy burning to run again.
When I’m working
there is no shame if I’m
not yet there.
I’m moving,
even if it is in circles.
The what ifs cascade into silence.
I must keep moving
with the babble of the brook,
the river of time,
for there is no time
for rest.
Instead I shall humbly plan
for all the things I’ll never do
and forget to enjoy the
moment of stillness.
Never still,
never silent,
never stop,
never rest.
Never.