by Donald Hancock

Created on: July 25, 2008   Last Updated: November 15, 2008

PEACE

I wondered in a forest - seeking to find rest

From all that robbed me of peace.

I looked at the shady spots here and there

And would have lain me down on one of those And slept.

But shade did not promise peace

And so I betook a sunny meadow to the side,

And would have rested there

But it seemed too quiet - too lonely.

And then the giant trees beckoned.

And surely they would, in their majesty,

Lift me up to peace - up to God.

But in my gloom I could not

Raise my eyes to look at them.

And I was totally and finally a miserable soul

Who could see promises of peace but not peace

And promises of joy but not joy itself.

And so I came back out from the beautiful forest

And shook my fist at all it promised.

And I cried and I slept in my tears.

And in the morning, I glimpsed

A lone flower at my feet, its stem broken,

Perhaps by my turning during the night.

That little blue flower - broken stem -

Sure to die tomorrow -

But still true to its beauty today.

Sure to die from its broken-ness,

But being a flower for as long as it had left.

There I found peace. In that blue flower.

Not in giant trees or vast meadows,

But in a tiny blue flower - true to what it was,

Without letting its broken-ness excuse it to be less.

Then I got up and I walked straight back
Toward that from which I had fled just yesterday.
And my broken-ness didn't seem to matter anymore.

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