A short poem on something I am learning from my recovery from surgery.

We say we want peace,
to rest, to breathe,
to be still for a while.

Yet when the noise fades
and the day grows quiet,
we hesitate.

The silence feels unfamiliar.
The body, so used to motion,
doesn’t quite know what to do.
The mind begins to wander,
searching for something to hold.

But this isn’t failure.
It’s the slow unwinding
of everything we’ve carried.
It’s the nervous system
learning that rest is safe.

It’s the heart remembering
how to trust the quiet.

So when the stillness feels strange,
pause.
Breathe.
Let it hold you
for just a moment longer.

Peace is not found
by forcing calm,
but by learning to stay
in the gentle space
where healing begins.