A Day Without Hurry

A Day Without Hurry

A day without hurry, begins so slow,

No place to rush, no need to go,

The clock ticks softly, out of sight,

Time feels gentle, loose and light.

Tea grows warm, between your hands,

No strict plans, no loud demands,

Just simple hours, drifting through,

A calm that settles, deep in you.

Windows open, let in air,

Curtains move, without a care,

Light spills softly, on the floor,

Nothing feels like work or chore.

Books lie waiting, pages still,

You pick one up, just for the thrill,

Words unfold, without a race,

Each line held, in quiet space.

The world outside, can spin its way,

You remain here, for this day,

Choosing stillness, over speed,

Giving yourself, what you need.

Even silence, feels alive,

Helping tired thoughts revive,

No pressure builds, nothing tight,

Just an easy, open light.

You stretch the hours, wide and long,

Like a quiet, steady song,

Letting moments, softly land,

Like fine sand, through your hand.

And when the evening, draws its line,

You feel restored, calm, and fine,

A day without hurry, gently done,

Simple peace, quietly won.

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