silence of a sunday

It’s a stillness we yearn for, which presents itself in many forms.

A necessary repose unwinds moments of chaos and tiredness.

the soft laughter emanating from a sunken-in couch,

the dim fairy lights that ease us into a slumber,

the wrinkled creases of a chapter leisurely passing through our grip,

the silence of a sunday pauses weeks past and future.

Its quietness is calming, yet frighteningly eerie.

A universal sacredness where the earth settles and in even birds are aware.

the blaring car horns seem to vanish,

the clanking of pots and pans simmer,

the rustle of trees whispers ever so tenderly in the wind,

the silence of a sunday often answers the unforgettable questions we pondered on Monday.

It’s the opening of a new door, freshly painted and hinged.

A rejuvenation of uninterrupted thought and introspection.

One deep breath reminding us of our ever-changing present,

the silence of a sunday need not be remiss of blissful content.