Gentle Light

A ray of sunlight in winter’s cold,

A gentle warmth the day can hold,

A blossom waking soft in spring,

Where silent hopes begin to sing.

I sit beside the window bright,

Where morning leans in tender light,

A cup of tea held calm and near,

Soft rising plumes that disappear.

They drift and fade, they lose their form,

Like passing thoughts once held so warm,

No need to follow, grasp, or keep,

They settle into pleasant calm.

No force to still, no will to bind,

No urge to shape the restless mind,

In simple gaze, the noise dissolves,

And silence gently now evolves.