“It is important to pause,”

people are telling me.

The message comes in different forms,

on various platforms,

from the blog of somebody

spending the morning in bed

with tea, cat, journal and books,

to the book I just read

saying that it is all right for us,

the introverts

to take it easy,

because we tend

to be overwhelmed

by the external stimuli.

It’s been difficult for me.

It’s been feeling like guilt.

Because my house is not clean enough

and my life’s work remains still unfinished.

Because the winter breeds nothing

but discontent.

But I ring the brass bell,

the one shaped like a beautiful woman

by a very artistic Indian tribe.

I have it for a year

and yet

I have never see such a beautiful thing

before today.

I look down, at my chest

and breathe

yoga style--

“bring your attention within yourself.”

Then I take the laptop

and write

a few words.

And I pretend

they make a poem.

My pulse slows down,

my mind is focused.

I write slowly

as if in a dream.

How come it didn’t occur to me before

that in poetry

I can so easily

take a break.