Stillness Poems

SOLITARY RUN

SOLITARY RUN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That morning, I set out for a solitary run noticing the clear blue sky with only a few wispy clouds floating by. The grass stood silent, the multi-colored leaves barely moving, looking as if they had been painted there. A faint touch upon my skin made me wonder, ‘Should a person be able to

The Hat and the Boots

The hat hangs on the wall,
not as a relic,
but as a witness—
to mornings that began before the sun
had made up its mind,
to arguments with weather
and the quiet pacts signed in sweat.

Below, the boots—
faded, cracked, obedient,
still loyal to the shape of a man
who walked with purpose,
even when purpose was
just getting through the day.

They are not symbols,
though

Morning Unfolds

A soft wind lifts the curtains.
light spills across the wooden floor.
dust spirals in lazy circles
and the quiet hum of the house
feels like a gentle heartbeat.

I step outside
the earth smells of wet grass and stone.
a bird’s song cuts through the stillness
small, specific, lively
and i bear in mind I belong here.

The sun melts my skin
the world extended,

Ikigai: Petals in Stillness

Spring — Passion

Kintsugi dawn—
white plum scents night air
tea rises in stillness.

Cranes cross pale sky;
child laughter drifts on moss.
A garden remembers.

Summer — Vocation

Tatami breathes—
cicada shells cling
reborn softly.

Koi flicker below
ripples fade in quiet hands.
Evening thunder calls—

incense drifts
forms bow.

Autumn — Mission

Fox lanterns kindle
shoji float through silver mist—
ancestral spirits stir.

Stray dog nestles
by the gate;
even strays seek warmth.

Tea vapor
recalls morning.

Winter

stillness reveals

Here 
we are,
in this cage
of body-mind,
limited by space,
taunted by flow of time
and if that is not enough,
the light of our being is veiled,
since we’re hypnotised by illusions,
indulging in which, our trance state deepens.

Choosing to rest both thought forms and senses,
by choosing to become a witness,
fulcrum of our awareness shifts
from form to the empty void,
where thus

Come to the Waters: A Hopeful Heart

How You Feel and How God Feels Poetry 
Contest //Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
( 1st Place )

Written: August 10, 2025


( Inspired by Isaiah 55 and reflecting on hope and faith. )

I come not full, but open wide,
With hands unfurled quietly yearning.
Your vows fall like gentle rain--
Words that flow from wells unending!

Through the clouds silver-haired persist.
I count

Quiet Triumph

In broken silence,
a single breath rises--
flickers of hope through the cracks,
light spills where shadows clench
vigor birthed from the stillness,
victory whispered softly.

Silence Is Beautiful

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder Poetry Contest //Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
( 1st Place )

Written: August 07, 2025


They say stillness is absence, an empty space between worth noting,
but I have heard its melodies in the pre-dawn chapel where stillness reigned
and still the walls exhaled calm.

I have found stillness and not loneliness---
but in two

STILLNESS

STILLNESS*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In stillness they stand,
deep roots sip from ancient streams,
time's hands slip away.
Branches weave through endless skies,
the heart learns to stretch and breathe.

*Note:Poem originally written for and submitted to creativeramblings.com (Haiku Shack) for its anthology contest. This is my original poem.

A Welcoming Stillness

We all search
for prescience
the future
on hold

As each
dying moment
forever
unfolds

We all crave
the silence
preparing 
for death

Its welcoming
stillness
a last 
 — final breath


(The New Room: July, 2025) 

stillness

silence cloaks silence as we dive in deep
into the void that holds all existence
and we do so by shedding resistance 
that seeks outcomes causing presence to sleep
so we remain still and let God’s grace seep
into our core that thus blurring distance
our heart’s persistence without insistence
paves the way for our soul’s consciousness leap

moment to moment, all

The Anvil of Stillness

They shout for a piece of my mind—
I offer the quiet, forged and cool,
Not shrapnel, not wildfire, not the grind
Of teeth on bone, but a deeper tool:
A breath that holds when the structure sways,
A root that grips when the landslide calls.
Peace isn’t the absence of the blaze,
But the choosing of water when fury sprawls.

It’s not

Scrawls Of Heartbroken Stillness

I turn the leaves of my old diaries.
Wherein my passions and anxieties
Together with your dried rose petals, sleep.
They savor your scent and bitterly weep.

Our glances, touches, cuddles, and kisses
Fun-filled, playfully hopping-mad hisses
Our desires, dreams, hopes, and aspirations
Did all these, like sheds, have no foundations?

Creeds and credos weren't causes for our split.
What's the root of our

stillness in scales hiku

For Brian Strand's 1394 Poetry Contest 

2 July 2025 

Contest Judged:  7/7/2025 11:09:00 AM
1st Place




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Alone in Stillness

alone in the quietude of nature
that fills me with serenity
though crows in trees are a disturbance
their grating noise an irritation
I follow a path to where skylarks sing
their melodic song soothing
but my heart is full of chaos
and anxiety
I have always found my soul in nature
but how can I when my body is broken ?

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