The Pause

Between chords, silence sharpens its claws.  

Birdsong breaks, then folds into the sky.  

The river halts at the weir’s patience,  

A breath caught before the next roar.  

We live this tune, fracturing at edges,  

Running on until the steps vanish.  

The heart stutters, wrestles its own tempo,  

Needing the void as much as the pulse.  

In the pause, life gathers its meaning—  

A leaf trembling, sun pinned on its skin.  

The wolf stills before its lunging kill,  

The earth waits to roll under our feet.  

You cannot play without knowing stillness,  

The spaces where meaning’s shadow falls.  

Every hammer of life calls for its rest,  

The quiet note stitching us back whole.