Peace, Serenity and all that Stuff

the red barn on the hill
pine boughs framing the mill creek
and the sound of a stiff breeze
rasping through the trees

I must make each step count
I say to myself
as I walk through the frozen snow
crunch
crunch
crunch
in step with the icy breath
of frost biting on nostrils

a woman waits in the cold
on a clandestine rendezvous
his warm arms to embrace her
back to life and undo
the cold of her anticipation

they leave together
but I stay
to feel the peace
serenity
and all that stuff

it is exhilarating to stand here
listening to the rush of water
birds chirping
brown oak leaves dancing against the sky
clinging to the trees
despite the fall

as I stomp on snow patches
and crusty thaw ground
a lip quiver of frost
mixing with my swirling breath

a little bit here
a little bit there
adds to the rhythm of life

the splash and tumble of the creek
rushing through the old mill
the rolling hills
put one in a place somewhere
far from the rattle
and the gears
of life

I waited a long moment
in that quiet place
wary of leaving
as if somehow
I might leave too soon
miss something
or
nothing at all

yet
it was not the stillness of time
that I longed to savor
it was not that sense
of earthen hills
wobbled on street-weary legs
to find this cloistered room
this surrender to an ancient call
that brought me here

O this peace
serenity
and all that stuff

%d bloggers like this: