fordy's web of words

Island of still

Even in the city rush,
amidst the deadlines
and demands of the markers of time
(relentless in the accounting of each second)
even there,
are islands of still
waiting to be entered.
Carefully.
Gently.
Quietly.
As into a holy place
where we might discover
if we could but be still
and know Him
who waits in the stillness
to be known.