Focus

Focus

In the hush of morning light,
thoughts gather like dew on grass,
each fragment seeking a single thread—
the quiet pull of purpose, steady as a compass.

Eyes narrow, the world softens at the edges,
noise recedes, a muffled chorus far away,
while the mind, a lantern, casts its steady beam
upon the task that asks for nothing less than all.

Fingers hover, breath aligns with rhythm,
heartbeats sync to the pulse of intention,
distractions melt like sugar in warm tea,
leaving only the crystal clarity of now.

When focus settles, time becomes a canvas,
each stroke deliberate, each hue deliberate,
and the self, once scattered, finds its centre—
a calm harbour where ambition and peace dock together.

So let us nurture this gentle art,
treat focus not as force but as a friend,
for in its steady gaze we discover
the strength to shape our days with quiet grace.