The Inner Home

I begin the day

not in the noise of doing,

but in the silence of being.

A breath.

A remembrance.

That peace is not far off—

but within,

waiting like a hearth with gentle flame.

Here,

my grief can bow beside my gratitude.

My fatigue can lean against

the walls of mercy.

From this inner dwelling—

shaped by stillness,

carved by discipline,

warmed by God’s quiet love—

I face the world not alone,

but inhabited.

By peace the world cannot give.

And love the world cannot take.