Rest is found in unexpected places.
Stillness doesn’t come naturally in most cases.
The act of breaking, in fact, requires action;
Allowing a pause to become an intentional distraction.
Rest is found in both the retreat and the outward bound.
Retreating within, reflecting upon, releasing what’s underground.
Yet also stepping outside of oneself by simply stepping outside.
A beautiful contradiction, where homey refuge and the great outdoors coincide.
Rest is found in the wide open space,
Where the busy mind wanders at a much slower pace.
Where strained eyes relax on trees in the distant background.
Where noise is silenced by the birds’ harmonic sound.
Rest is found in the hidden, secluded nooks.
There, child-like wonder is sparked by details that attract closer looks.
Like the veins of a leaf, the shape of a rock, the texture of bark,
The design of a web and the delicate wings of a monarch.
Rest is found on a patio chair with a warm coffee cup.
As stress is lowered, muscles begin to loosen up.
Or in a hammock under a canopy of trees,
As breath and pulse begin to match the gentle sway from the breeze.
Rest is found strolling on a shaded street,
Or in the rhythmic motions atop a bicycle seat.
It’s found in the boot steps along rocky dirt trails,
Or in the digging of toes along a shoreline of sand and shells.
Rest is found on the covered porch during rain,
Or at the picnic table post-dinner card game.
It’s found in colorful hues tinting the early morning sky,
Or in the moon reflecting another day’s glowing goodbye.
Rest is found when the searching ceases,
When complete peace replaces frayed, scattered pieces,
When fingers stop scrolling, walls are removed, and the art of boredom is exercised.
For when creation sets the mind on things above, rest for the weary is realized.
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