Peace

{source: Blessed Winter Rains}

Today is Wednesday, and I'm already halfway to Thursday, with a disaster of a desk and three-quarters of a checklist unchecked and a foot out the door with a cello in one hand and a groccery list in the other.  So of course, I found myself contemplating the concept of peace.  And now that I've said that, I realize this is too big a thought to throw into a blog post on a half-finished weekday, but it was enough to remind me of an old poem I wrote.  There aren't many of those (and even fewer that I liked), but this was my attempt to describe what I see when I think of peace on busy days...

misty air as gray as pewter
cold, wet grass as green as green
in the aspen drops of bird-song
break the silence; birds unseen

foggy distance, split-rail fence
darker colors from the dew
gray-worn steps sigh underneath me
cup of coffee, crystal view


old house slumbers, still too early
moon has faded, still no sun
tired jean jacket, pulled in closer
long weeds whisper: this is home

cat perched high on rusty tractor
barn door swinging, sound goes far
out beyond this patch of quiet
echoes of one lonely car



feather-like the new day hovers
here the pendulum's arc is slowed
here I sit and breathe, awaiting
what will come, God surely knows…

{go with peace, my friends}