Silence Between Breaths

You think the soul is a ladder? 

A climb toward golden light? 

That's just the ego's hunger for height. 

The soul is a stone in the river, 

rolling downstream, 

polished by the grit. 

Wanting to scrape its knees 

on the pavement of existence, 

to feel the cold rain of a Tuesday, 

to lose the keys, to miss the train. 

You are a spiral — 

a snake swallowing its own tail, 

choking on the past, 

digesting the future. 

Are you walking a straight line 

looking for the exit? 

Or the journey that begins by standing still? 

Or...

the room, breathing. 

The lungs. 

The air. 

The silence between breaths.

FOR THE ONE WHO FEELS IT 

The ego builds ladders; the soul rolls in the mud. A provocative deconstruction of linear progress, revealing that you are not a traveller passing through life, but the room itself — the lungs, the air, and the silence between the breaths. 

You are already where you need to be.

🔗Sleep 🔗Thank You