- Books, Literature, and Writing
Yet-Peace Will Come
Strolling the meadow in the dew lit morn
To the edge of the river, pine tree crowned.
Pondering life’s many strange ways.
Listen to the birds call,
Listen to the water run,
Listen to the wind blow
Through the tree tops that sway.
The sun dappled down on my face,
Quiet bathes the world with peace.
Later, hiking along the well traveled path,
Cooled, as afternoon traffic races by.
Horn honking, diesel rumbling, music blaring,
People blather and jabber, cackle and chatter,
Cacophony assaults my ears.
When will this wandering end?
Pandemonium wraps the world in disarray.
Yet, meandering through twilight speckled with stars.
The four o’clocks open, hummingbird whirring
In the soft breeze. Four o’clocks getting sleepy and
Closing their eyes. Soft breeze, cool stars, warm home,
Sitting on the porch swing gazing outward
Four o’clocks and I close our eyes together.
Calm embraces the world with tenderness.