The Hardest Work Unseen

To do naught seems an idleness profound,

Yet 'tis a toil that few can well endure,

A quiet struggle, silent and unbound,

In stillness' realm, its challenges are obscure.

In the midst of the ceaseless whirl of toil and strife,

Where clamour reigns and bustle takes its toll,

To cease and rest, to still the urgent life,

Demands a strength of mind, and self-control.

The mind unburdened by the pressing need,

Finds solitude and contemplation sweet,

In nothingness, new thoughts may take their seed,

And in the void, the soul finds its retreat.

So, deem not idleness an easy task,

In quietude, great battles one must unmask.