The Quiet Build

Peace doesn’t arrive with thunder.

It comes in the hush of nights

that finally end in sleep,

in mornings that greet me

without a hangover of thought.

Sobriety is steady ground,

the bottle left behind,

the glass filled with water

that actually quenches.

Health stacks itself quietly—

rep after rep,

breath after breath,

in the iron rhythm of the gym,

in the heartbeat that remembers

how to trust its own pace.

Evenings are slower now.

Dinner is a table,

not a distraction,

and conversations breathe

without pressure to perform.

Date nights carry lightness,

a kind of simple joy

I once mistook for rare.

Strength isn’t the roar of victory.

It’s the quiet body

that carries without complaint,

the mind that steadies,

the soul that finally rests.

This is calm.

Not loud.

Not fleeting.

Just the quiet build of peace

I was meant to stand on.