The Stillness

When pure exhaustion becomes a state of mind

I can’t feel anything but tired. 

My bones are soaking in exhaustion.

My head is spinning in weariness.

Gravity is calling me to the ground.

 

Suddenly I recognize the stillness in the world,

As my thoughts become that of lazy bees in autumn,

As blood moves through my veins like honey,

I hear the dull insistence of traffic,

And the constantly interrupted moan of silence.

 

To shut my eyes would be to loose perspective,

To regain the busying thoughts in my head upon waking,

To forget the inanimate of my surroundings,

To feel the world turning, and taste time ticking.