DRIFT

A quiet reflection on early morning weariness, “Drift” honors the quiet resilience we carry, and the grace found in simply continuing forward, one breath at a time.

Morning hums low, like conch-shell memory, clouds still heavy with half-spoken dreams.

The island stirs with stories softened by tide, and I sit in the hush between who I’ve been and who I’m becoming.

This weariness" not weakness, but proof of walking through life’s weather, unshielded but intact.

Let the waves rinse me slow today.

Let the salt remind me I am made of sea and sorrow, of laughter hidden in coral crevices, of grace held tightly in the curl of my spine.

I drift, but I do not disappear.

Author's Note

Written in a moment of emotional stillness, this piece is an invitation to embrace exhaustion without shame, and to see drifting not as fading, but as persistence in softer form. What does weariness mean to you?

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I don't know if we are talking about the same thing, but when I first wake up and for a while thereafter, I feel something that is akin to depression. If this is "life's weather," I definitely need an umbrella. I find one in coffee. Three cups and I am healed.

[Gregoria Ahmed]

It *is* the same thing, almost eerily so. this is just born straight out on one of my mornings like that, which honestly was one today before writing it and posting it. Life's weather, and yeah, I didn't have my umbrella either.

Coffee might not heal my soul, but it does remind me it still has a pulse. Glad to know I'm not drifting alone.

[Gregoria Ahmed]

Apologies, my morning is still in drift mode. I didn’t realize the asterisks were used in my comment.