A Hush That Hums.

There’s joy, for me, in things so slight—

In birds above, in music’s light,

In fleeting moments peace may bring,

The joy I find in little things.

The birds that soar, that twist and glide,

Not for their ease—but how they strive.

I watch them dance, my heart takes flight,

And something stirs—both deep and bright.

A single note, a drifting breeze—

As if it rose from some old dream.

The sunlight gilds the trembling trees,

Then spills along a silver seam.

These passing signs belong to me—

A hush that hums of being free.

...

It moves my soul. It makes me weep,

As stars above in silence sleep.

I sip the hour. I taste the air—

It lingers with a reckless flair.

Not every hour is spun from gold.

Some unravel. Some feel cold.

But even then, I come to see

A thread of grace that waits for me.

The peace I seek, the light I find,

Lives in the pause—the softened mind.

The hush of dusk, a breath, a pane—

The knowing glance of window rain.

In all I do, in all I see,

There’s something small that steadies me.

It does not boast. It does not shine—

But whispers low:

“This peace is mine.”

So here I stay, where stillness sings,

Where joy pours in on quiet wings.

No need for grandeur, crowns, or kings—

The joy I find in little things.

For what it’s worth,

-Charlene Iris

One thought at a time.

One truth at a time. 

Because some epiphanies stay with you.