A willow bends
Beside the stream,
No need to chase
Some distant dream.
Its leaves just flutter
Soft and slow-
No urge to stay
No need to go.
A pebble sits
On shallow sand,
Not diamond, gold
Valuable or grand.
It simply rests
The sun its friend,
Content to be
With no pretend.
The world spins on
Bright and gray,
Clouds gather
Then drift away.
Within this breath
I softly stay-
Not lost, not found
Just here
Okay.
Cloudia Charters