peace

a little over a year ago, i wrote a series of haikus highlighting the areas of joy in my life -- joy in the ordinary. i wrote it as a reminder to myself that joy in the small things that surround me, breathes life into my lungs. they're not grand or extravagant moments. instead, they are simple, everyday occurrences that make me pause, take a breath, and smile. these little pockets of happiness that i find solace and comfort in, serve as a reminder that life is filled with beauty, light, and laughter.

this morning, i received a phone call at 3 am and life feels upside down from it. a lot feels uncertain. my heart is restless. i looked in the mirror and gasped. i became a vampire in a short amount of time: my eyes are shadowed with dark circles, a deep purple hue that speaks of sleepless nights and worry. my lips are chapped and cracked. my skin, pale and ghostly: a reflection of the turmoil within. i feel as if i'm floating in a fog of confusion and doubt.

i keep asking myself, "where is the peace that Jesus offers?"

it feels elusive. a distant memory.

the last few hours, i've been pondering this. feeling stuck, unable to answer that question confidently. as if i'm trapped in a maze with no clear exit. and then, God reminded me that it's everywhere. it's woven into the fabric of my life and i've been too distracted, too moody, to notice it.

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PEACE (a series of haikus)

in the somber days,

peace anchors itself to me,

a grounding presence.

roots of ancient trees,

intertwined with the earth's dirt,

solace amid chaos.

morning dew on grass,

droplets glistening like gems,

nature awakens.

wildflowers bloom,

morning sky painting mountains,

beauty of new dawn.

bare feet in warm grass,

sunlight dancing on my skin —

pure, unfiltered joy.

laughter over tea,

soft eyes that say "you are known" —

hands that hold me close.

softly lit candles,

anthropologie blanket,

americanos.

purring of my cat,

the twinkling Christmas lights,

steady faucet drips.

calm my anxious heart,

a balm on a weary soul —

deep breaths, it is well.

in the storm’s still eye,

He whispers, “be not afraid” —

my soul rests in Him.

a sanctuary

where the time seems to stand still —

my soul, it is well.