Peace In All Its Power

I work as all men born on earth must work

Who labour the long hours in the soil,

An intimacy with the silent world

Of growing things and though it seems like toil

As the human body weakens with the years,

There is contentment too and offering

Of life to beauty, an intense delight

To see through leaves and hear the flowers singing,

Watch a leaflet flutter without a breeze,

Sensing the hovering hummingbird's return.

Yet is there more, the fingers touching earth,

The heightened sense of wonder as I burn

With the flaming maple and hold the lily's cup

And drink the splendour of the waning day

As crickets and cicadas take the night

And from some deepest inner well I pray

For peace in all its power to descend

And touch the heart too long divorced from bliss,

To calm the turbulence of thinking mind

And know the sun and wind as Nature's kiss

Upon the hidden struggling soul of man.