Stop Don't Let It Pass By

Each day each moment has its meaning, stop and listen. The dust accumulates on the baseboard as they move behind the counter supplying the demand that has been established. The tiles are cracked and the walls an erie mustard yellow. I have come here to listen, yet my pen is called to write in hopes that this moment may not be lost. As ordinary as this moment appears from the outside it carries a peace that eases its way through my body, it tip toes its way into my soul to say, this is it. It is this simple.