*After The Storm*

After the Storm [Acoustic guitar] After the storm... the bay becomes interesting. Not because nothing is happening... Because everything is. ... A mug of coffee cooling beside a window. ... A familiar chair. ... The porch. ... The path through the park... that your feet already know. ... A hawk spends far more time perched... than hunting. ... A sailboat rests in a quiet cove. Not lost. Not delayed. Just waiting for a wind that hasn't arrived yet. ... A dragonfly settles on a reed. ... A bee slips beneath a flower petal... while the rain passes. ... A spider rebuilds... one strand at a time. ... Even the forest knows this rhythm. ... After a wildfire... the hillside looks empty. Blackened. Still. ... But beneath the ash... roots are redistributing energy. ... Seeds that waited years... for this very moment... begin to open. ... The visible work has stopped. ... The invisible work... has not. ... Maybe... we're not so different. ... Every tide has an ebb. ... Every breath has an exhale. ... Every storm is followed by stillness. ... Not because the current is gone. ... Because the world... is redistributing the energy. ... Maybe... we are too. ... The stories you've already written. ... The sculptures. ... The songs. ... Even the unfinished ideas... the ones that never became anything... ... They weren't lost. ... They became nutrients. ... Quietly feeding... whatever comes next. ... So... sweep the floor. ... Open the windows. ... Sharpen the tools. ... Leave the door unlocked. ... Not because you're expecting lightning. ... Because this is simply how you care for a place where beautiful things sometimes arrive. ... And when they do... you'll be ready.