The hourglass stood on the table,
Already in motion.
Fine sand slipped from the upper chamber in a smooth,
Continuous stream.
Each grain falling cleanly into the glass below.
The flow held steady,
Unbroken,
Forming a soft,
Even mound that spread slowly outward.
Lucas stepped closer.
He watched the line of sand as it fell.
It did not hurry,
It did not pause.
It simply continued,
Grain after grain,
Flowing with ease.
Something in him began to settle with it.
He placed his hand on the table,
The surface felt soft beneath his palm,
Grounding him in the moment.
His breathing began to lengthen,
Each inhale drawing in more fully,
Each exhale relaxing him just slightly at first,
Then a little more with each breath.
The sand continued to fall.
As it gathered below,
The mound shifted and lowered,
Smoothing itself out.
The surface leveled,
Then rose again,
Then settled again.
His thoughts followed the same pattern.
They formed,
Then lowered,
One after another,
Each one losing height,
Losing shape,
Easing into something softer before settling completely.
He felt the tension of the day slipping away with each softened thought.
As he watched the sand falling,
He knew he could relax now.
Simply sink into the moment with nothing left to pull at him.
Lucas lowered himself into the chair beside the table.
The wood creaked lightly but held him comfortably,
His body releasing into the softness of the cushions.
The hourglass turned.
Without a hand to guide it,
The glass tipped slowly,
Smoothly,
Until the chambers reversed.
The sand began again,
Falling in the same steady line.
He watched the new stream.
The fall of the sand held him.
He stopped reaching for anything beyond it,
And in that pause,
He found his way back to himself,
Where nothing asked to be changed.
His shoulders dropped.
A deeper release moved through him,
Flowing downward,
Settling through his chest,
His arms,
His legs.
His body grew heavier,
Supported in the chair with nothing left to carry.
His eyes were heavy now,
His thoughts distant.
It was time to let go.
The hourglass turned again,
And again the sand began to fall.
Lucas rose slowly,
His bed weighted nearby.
He lay down,
The mattress and blankets embracing him.
The very last pieces of the day fell away.
His mind and body released fully into stillness and ease.
The calming drift of the falling sand remained with him,
Endless,
Flowing,
And with that same slow ease,
Lucas drifted into sleep.
