THE PACE OF PEACE

Scurrying Squirrels

I move in wonder about my place in this world. 

Just outside my doors, I freely wander my world, turning at the quick scatter of squirrels and the twirls and chirps of birds. Snowdrops carpet the earth and bid farewell to a fainting winter, hope springing to life.

Snowdrops 

I move and wonder about my place in this world. 

While I search for signs of new life, people are losing theirs. The waning of the night’s full moon above my Midwest skies are a shadow of darkness to those far away sheltering from missiles invading their slumber under a night’s sky.

A meandering path to corners of my world.

I wander about in my place in this world. 

My heart is at peace steps outside my door until my mind wanders to monsters lingering in a faraway country’s backyard, where birds sing no lullabies. My feet halt, paralyzed on the path of peace, knowing uncontrolled nightmares haunt others held hostage to fear.

I move to find my place in this world.

Wild weeds choke life’s beauty, but expectation always grows alongside destruction. Witnessing green grass under blue heavens, I pray for the continuity of human nature to rise above disaster. Set life in motion to transform ruin by nurturing the seeds of hope. Tend to peace.

A lightning strike killed plants in this area.

I move to find the pace of peace in this world.

I cannot stop the anguish, but try I must, one step at a time. I will carry peace with me to the places in my world, a fragrant offering, and may that bouquet be a ripple of our mending. The pace of peace may be trickle slow, but may it flow.

Lenten Rose finding its way in early spring.