Move at the Speed of Your Breath

I dwell once again

in the house

of today.

The icy sidewalks

slow my body.

Winter's cold

invites

the quiet,

slow,

pace.

I let sensation lead.

I move at the speed of my breath.

Nothing rushes me.

Presence is

asked for.

The world teaches

stillness.

And I listen.

I met today

at its

true

pace.

I walked

embraced

in quiet

sunshine.

The silent

landscape

adjusted

itself

to my

pace, my presence, my breath.

I remain.

This is enough.

I dwell in the house of

today.

When you enter

the house of today,

everything

knows

how to find you.

Move at the speed of

breath.

Quiet

is

enough.

I will

return tomorrow.

My presence

is

required.

Stillness

knows

my

name.

Aho

Ahem

Amen

Angela