Lessons of Lazing

The peace of doing nothing.
In stretching across the soft belly of a day,
and minutes melt like honey.
In silence that hums with 
a bird’s wing, a sigh, the thought that never needs to land.

The world spinning a fevered dance of needing,
but stillness has its own beat...slow, sovereign...
(just cool enough to make time blush)
It isn’t the pause before creation,
it is creation, exhaling.

When you rest, the noise unlatches.
The mind drops its tangled keys.
What remains is pulse
- pure, simple pulse - 
the same rhythm that rocks oceans
and whispers galaxies into being.

So be lazy.
Profoundly lazy.
Watch clouds argue with the wind.
Let your eyes water for no reason.
There, in the soft blur between breath and being,
you meet yourself again
unhurried, undivided, perfectly alive.

Lazing I.A.m

Art: John William Godward’s “Idle Thoughts” (1899)