🌼 Warmth Rests in Yellow Hush
A quiet meditation on stillness, presence, and the soft language of light The sun had just begun its slow descent , casting soft honey over the quiet fields. Yellow flowers perhaps daisies, perhaps something unnamed swayed gently in a breeze that barely disturbed the hush. A small wooden bench sat beneath an old neem tree, worn smooth by time and quiet moments. She sat there, eyes closed, a book unopened in her lap. Not asleep. Not thinking. Just being . The kind of silence that doesn’t beg to be filled. Around her, the golden petals of the day began to fall one by one, as if the world itself were exhaling a lullaby. Nothing moved quickly here. Even the light took its time, curling itself around her shoulders like a shawl tender and unassuming. And in that stillness, the heart sighed not out of sadness, but relief. This was the yellow hush. And warmth did not ask for notice. It simply stayed. ✨ A Love That Doesn't Shout We often chase joy in loud places, in ...