Learning to Listen

Learning to Listen

For years I tried to set things right—

in the house, at work,

in the people I cared for—

as if life were a watch

that only needed winding.

But lately I’ve begun to see

how everything finds its own shape

when given room.

The garden grows sideways

and still feeds us.

A friendship I thought was lost

sends a note, just a few words,

enough to say I’m still here.

Even the small crack in the kitchen tile

has stopped bothering me.

It belongs now,

a line the light traces each morning

on its way across the floor.

Maybe wholeness

isn’t something we make,

but something we allow—

the way breath finds its rhythm

when we finally stop

telling it how.