When the world goes quiet
and even heaven holds its breath,
you start to hear things
you never had the space to hear—
like your own heartbeat
without anyone else's rhythm rushing it.
There is no applause now,
no buzzing phone,
no finish line to chase.
Only you,
your breath,
and a sky that still hasn’t fallen.
This stillness—
it is not punishment.
It is an altar.
A waiting room for angels
who only arrive
when everything else has gone.
You have nothing left to give?
Good.
Now let the Divine give to you.
Let Love find you unpolished,
unworking,
undisguised.
The ones who are meant
to walk with you
will not need fireworks—
they’ll sit in the stillness
and stay.
And while you wait,
know this:
Not one second of this silence
is wasted.
It is making room
for something holy.
-The Soft Witness
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Author:
The Soft Witness (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2025 00:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments2
This poem itself is a soft witness and is tender in its feel. Very nicely written
That is just simply a beautiful write, enjoyed the read
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