healing heart

Peace and stillness—
sometimes they go together,
sometimes they don’t.
Like wind,
peace can breeze in softly,
but it can also whistle sparkling cold
through cracks in closed hearts.
Wake up, it says, all will be well.
There’s a pensive peace
that watches the sky for storm clouds.
There’s peace that sighs in relief
when trouble skims past,
simply rocking branches, teasing leaves.
Then there’s peace that weathers the storm
like a boulder unmoved,
the tree left standing.
And there’s a festive peace,
noisy and fresh as a sudden spring shower,
full of laughter, lifted glasses, shared stories.
This holiday season held that peace for me—
a flowing, swirling, rushing peace
of listening and watching the joy of family,
the gratitude of gathering,
the hope of health and happiness to come.
Now that family has left
and I sit alone in my family room,
the stillness returns.
Peace drifts down like silent snow,
and I know that peace
is the weather
of the healing heart.
-kh-