Sometimes rest is necessary.

Not because the work is done,

but because the work is going.

Ever going.

And yet here and now in this drop of time
hides stillness,

an                      open                  secret.

(shhhhh….)

Rest now, little one,

Rest.

The summer wind sneaks across your face.
The cicadas whir in the depths of your ears.

The warm air calls you down to recline,
spread low and long in the sun.

Rest.

Much love,
Rachel