Dwelling Place

I’m perched on tree limbs of silence these days … Now sixty four and stumbling on … My claws are losing their grip …

Calming down, observing all, growing keen in my senses … Finding peace in awkward stillness, a solitude I should have embraced long ago … Slow dawning that I had to sincerely seek it…

Often times tending to be anxiety-filled and restless … Just to get things done … Now I take it easy, like when I’m folding clothes … More aware of patterns, shapes, colors … the percentage blend of cotton and polyester on the makers tag … pants, shirts and socks.

I’m learning to let it all go … Let it all go where it will … The stuff of life keeps coming, the good and the bad, no matter how you plan or do

Learning to find peace in the midst of ever changing circumstances … I’ve found my “dwelling place” deep inside. Frank.

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