Rest, is nourishment.
It is not checking emails,
messages,
or sitting quietly to ponder,
the 50 things to do later.
They aren’t urgent, anyway.
Once the fear is removed,
the panic,
the ‘what ifs’,
all that is left is choice,
to do the thing now,
or later.
Rest, is the master of later.
Rest, is eating food
that the body, not the mind,
craves.
It is the herbal infusion that communes,
with your needs,
on a cellular level.
It is the slumber that breathes softly,
mistaken, sometimes, for a lover.
Rest, sinks far from all surfaces,
cannot feel the frantic jerks,
of a body disconnected from source.
Rest, is about shut eyes,
when light is too much,
soft colours, when darkness is too thick.
It is shutting down, so you may open up,
against all earthly odds,
against all demands made on you,
by you,
the you that is tired.
Rest, is losing track of the phone,
folding a corner in the paperwork,
delaying duty,
and saying ‘to heaven with it all’
while I love, myself,
like no other is able.
Guilt free.
Time free.
Present.
