In this house, I find my peace again,
The walls breathe softly, a shelter from the storm,
Where once the noise of chaos filled the air,
Now silence lingers like a gentle breeze.
Yet, restless thoughts move in like wandering ghosts,
Whispering of tasks undone, of work that waits—
The steady hum beneath the calm façade.

My hands, though still, feel eager to create,
To mend, to build, to shape what must be formed,
But time escapes like water through a sieve.
The rooms, they hold me, cradled in their calm,
While in my mind the busy world takes root,
A thousand lists to chase, and yet I pause.

For in this peace, I find a gentle grace,
The stillness calls for balance to be found—
To sit and breathe, though restless work remains,
And let the house remind me of its calm.