sleep on it
A soul refrains from distant quests,
Throne, temple, summit—all forsaken.
The answer dwells, soft-spoken, near,
Its whispers carried on dawn’s breath.
Kindness becomes as oil of lamps,
A quiet deed ignites warm glow.
Within the dark, love forms a hymn,
Illuminating hearts, unseen.
Do not journey far,
The warmth you seek
is folded close,
Residing deep—within, it grows.
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh
Thu 15th May 2025 07:03
Love forms a hymn.
What a nice image.