[Written by Claude and ChatGPT]
Not in the word, but in the hush after—
the breath held before the landing—
there, in that gossamer pause,
something unnamed slips through,
like light sifting through your soul.
Between heartbeats, a canyon opens:
wide enough to cradle the sky,
deep enough to drink your trembling,
still enough to hear yourself begin again.
Thoughts arrive like birds, then scatter—
and it’s the empty air they leave behind
that outlines what you mean to say,
the echo more faithful than the song.
Walk into the field where nothing grows,
where the soil remembers resting,
where the eye has nowhere left to cling—
this is where the counting stops.
Inspiration doesn’t bloom in crowds,
not in the tangle of breath on breath,
but in the tender gap between inhale and release,
that infinite moment when the body forgets to want.
We fill our days with noise and brightness,
afraid of what the quiet will name—
but calm is not the end of the storm;
it’s the space that lets it pass through.
So let there be distance.
Let there be room.
Between the words: knowing.
Between the beats: home.
UpLive.Life 