Serenity,
That quiet calm, that healing hush,
falls over the earth like a blanket,
covering the remnants of the past with a moment
of right now.
More than a promise of renewal, it appears
like the morning, at the beginning of a new time
– the dawning of change.

Going somewhere,
or nowhere,
its shadow fails to disguise the light that will
inevitably
shatter its power. It knows
the moment will give way to opportunity.
The still of singing
brings the blazing sun of mid-day.
Blue will turn to yellow
and yellow to red,
as time passes,
another cycle of the day.

The dew of morning gathers on a leaf.
From high up in a tree, it casts itself over the edge.
A free fall becomes a shower
of silver sparkles.

The silver line on the blue horizon grows.
The mists begin to scatter at will.
Some here, some there.
Hiding in a secret place
to emerge in the cover of darkness.

But their movement is slow.
In the thick,
but fading moment, the movement
evaporates
into the backdrop of a canvass whose picture still works magic on the air.

Its power, too, will fade.
Its time will pass.
But til it does, every sound, every shadow,
the color, the motion…all
experience the gravitas of its bendable restriction.
They wait without impatience
for the time to pass.
Never anxious to be free,
they willingly acquiesce
to the tranquil power, of
serenity.

A reflection from 2014. Thanks to John Anderson for the use of his cabin on Lake Superior where this scene was observed.