The sweet resting spot of a long journey

If life is a journey
Then how depressing that its destination is death
And if we concentrate on the journey itself instead
Then we seem to be so concerned about which route to take
But it doesn’t make sense when you think about it
Whichever way we go
The journey is always tiring
And the route is treacherous without exception

So it's not the journey that this poem cares for
It doesn’t care about any start, middle or end
But instead, life's sweet resting spot where I can stretch my legs, my thoughts, my spirit

What I'm saying is that we don't have to make life a journey
We could be aimless, timeless and motionless
We could be lazy!
What if we make rest more important than moving;
Put relaxation before exertion;
Creativity before accumulation;
Play before work;
Put being before doing?

Let me try again
Have you ever noticed how sweetly a cat sleeps?
And how much more often they are asleep than awake?
Look closely at how lovely they look
They're as peaceful as the Buddha
They curl up in a ball with a smile
Like they're betraying the secret to life
An eternal wisdom that whispers in the wind
The neglected thoughts crowded out by those that become speech and action
The words of God that expand the limits of time and love
If only we knew how to listen to them

In my little resting spot
I exhale and expand
There is a rushing stream that springs from glacial heights
Bubbling with purity wrapped in ice
The water is a trusted friend
Smiling as it hugs me, consoles me, cuddles me inside and outside
The ragged grass on the small bank is emerald green
Glassy sunlight in a line of photon beads beams angular
Through the prism of the still sky
My eyes narrow, my breath quietens, my spirit is grounded

Flying insects flutter, buzz and bounce on flowers
They look at each other like a crowded bar
For those looking for love
Love in the moment is forever love
Love in this moment is makeup I can't wash off
A clown-faced rouge blush
That won't let my face go
Even my trusted spring water
Only smears the blush more bright

My limbs lie limp and heavy
They are weighed down by the journey
I stretch them wider and longer
Making my innocence grow tender
I no longer - think about when the journey will resume
But how I am a five year old child
Playing with my five year old friend
In a sand pit with toys of neon plastic

As we play naked except for smiles and sunshine
We see each other so clearly
Because it is the space in between - that matters
Giggles and laughs no longer belong to us
They vibrate the air and spread out like those fluttering insects
They pollinate our mouths, our eyes, our innocence

We make sand castles
We break sand castles
We build sand tunnels
We fill sand tunnels
With out-stretched arms joined by clasped fingers in the middle
With promises that make it impossible - to let go
And little do we know
So little do we know

In this sweet resting spot
As my limbs lighter lay
So the journey lies lost
And as the heart soars softer
So this sweet spot is all