Describe one habit that brings you joy.
There’s a quiet kind of comfort
in waking at midnight,
knowing the floor is clear—
save perhaps for a cat’s toy,
waiting like a small reminder
of life, not clutter.
Morning will rise
without the weight of wreckage,
no scramble to set right
what chaos left behind.
Not that I won’t find something—
a drawer to sort, a shelf to tame—
it’s just in my nature,
the urge to bring order.
Some make peace
with the beautiful mess of living,
but I’m not one of them.
If I see disarray,
it calls my name—
another task to tend,
another quiet demand.
Clean lines, clear spaces—
they are more than aesthetic;
they are safeguards
against mishap and overwhelm,
leaving room
for what the day may bring.
The Writings of Felina Silver 
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