the activity of the day eases into stillness.
The quiet of the night sings sweetly,
beckoning me to the days final task.
A familiar fatigue settles in like an old friend,
sensing the softness of the bed in which it will soon rest.
This was one of my first poems in my 2nd or 3rd go-round at the effort. At this time, it was very recent. Settling down for bed on the first night of TZC's Jukai retreat, the night held me like a parent guiding a sleepy child by the shoulders as they make their way from the car to bed, having come home far too late.
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