Breathe

Breathe.
You do not need love
or dandelions.
You do not need wine,
rich and red.

Breathe.
You do not need the tender touch
of children and lovers,
or the soft whisper
of a mother, long lost to the night.

Breathe.
You do not need happiness
or its pursuit.
You need only stillness,
the presence of mind

and all these things will flow to you,
soft as fog,
gentle as dawn.

Breathe.

About this poem

We worry too much. That’s the simple truth.

The picture was taken on the James River, in Richmond, Virginia.

Tom