Rest & Soul
There are evenings when the world asks for no explanation.
When silence is not emptiness, but protection.
A sofa. A blanket. A film breathing softly in the background.
And her.
Not as a mother.
Not as a partner.
Not as a fighter.
Simply as a woman at rest.
The steam from her cup rises like a quiet prier .
No words needed. Only warmth.
Candlelight draws golden lines across the room.
Not to shine.
But to remind:
you have done enough.
On the screen, others speak their story.
In her heart, everything becomes still.
Rest is not a luxury.
Rest is restoration.
Softness is not weakness.
Softness is courage without noise.
And whoever gives herself permission to be nothing for a while
discovers that it is exactly enough.
āThe soul does not heal in haste, but in gentle evenings.ā
āTrue strength whispers.ā
āWhoever dares to slow down, wins within.ā
āRest is not a pause from life. It is life.ā
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