해나 로웰 Hannah Lowell

Where the Quiet Lives

There’s a stillness in the morning

When the coffee’s warm and slow,

And the daylight finds the corners

Of the things I used to know.

I’ve been learning how to breathe again,

In ways I never tried

Naming every quiet memory

I once kept pushed aside.

I kept chasing every answer

Like the world was keeping score,

But the older that I’m getting

The less I need to win the war.

Now I’m holding softer questions,

Letting go of old demands

Finding peace in folded blankets

And the warmth of my own hands.

And I’m learning to live

Where the quiet lives,

In the moments in between

All the ordinary lines.

There’s a gentleness I missed,

Now it’s finally in my sight

In the way the evening whispers

That I’m gonna be alright.

Some friends drifted like the seasons,

Some stayed longer than the rain.

But I thank them for the footprints

They each left across my pain.

Now the years don’t feel so heavy

I can carry them with grace,

And the mirror shows a woman

Who found her rightful place.

Yeah, I’m learning to live

Where the quiet lives,

Where the softest parts of me

Finally rise into the light.

There’s a gentleness I missed,

But it’s blooming in my stride

Like a promise kept in winter

Coming back to life.

I don’t need the world to answer

Every question I still hold.

I just need a little sunlight

And a heart that won’t grow cold.

So I’m learning to live

Where the quiet lives,

In the comfort of the small things

I once overlooked in life.

There’s a healing I can feel

In the peaceful, steady night

And it tells me I’m becoming

Who I needed all this time.