to make peace

sunsetIt is next to impossible in the middle of the night,

when the sound of my family’s sweet sleeping

fills my heart,

to make peace with

the senseless violence,

the greed, and random tragedy of the world.

These specters haunt my warm bed

and torment my sleepy thoughts into a frenzy.

I cannot protect those most dear to me.

I cannot rest.

 

With the rising sun, I remember. It is

far better to tackle the world’s unrest

with the rhythm of swinging hips,

the movement of muscle,

the pounding of feet on leaf mould, sand, grass,

lightly now, go over this hill, and down the other side.

My fingers, cracking a bulb of garlic,

handling soil, hay, children, sharing life with life.

 

The living world restores my senses.

Birth, growth, decline, and decay entwine

under my shoes, around my fingers, above my head.

The movement of life is evident

in the falling leaves, the mist on my face,

the bird flight and squirrel chatter,

the cool shadow and the warm fire.water sun

(In the dark, on the pavement, on the highway,

I lose my place.

Flailing, I cling to what I love.

Mortality and loss are immanent threats.)

 

Our only protection, the best security,

is that life loves itself.

Pushing the seed into the soil,

I find my place within the continuum.

 

Thankful,

to be reminded, again and again,

the world will not be healed

only by using our heads,

but with the motion of our limbs

and the beating of our hearts.

Whatever peace we can make

in this life

will be made

by the mind that moves

in our whole bodies.zinnia