Seasonal Notebook Thoughts, 17 x 17
Summer’s final breath,
ravens scouting this year’s nests,
monks still pray for peace.
Autumn’s first breezes,
humans spy as we build homes,
wrens find peace mid-air.
Days of thanksgiving
abound with friendship and joy.
There is bliss in peace.
Seeking awareness
before winter’s arrival.
Peace may still flow in.
As winter draws near,
perhaps we’ll tread consciously.
Peace is every step.
Clouds of December,
painting paths and rooftops white.
Peace in the village.
Frosted serenades
accent winter’s frozen sleeps.
Dawn’s peace comes slowly.
Living mindfully
in the holiday bedlam.
Peace is a challenge.
Winter’s fire is banked,
air dancing above hard coals
At peace in my bed.
Spring is not summer.
Pickles aren’t yet cucumbers.
Peace is who one is.
Soft blue, like the sky
in the first kiss of summer.
Peace, carried by doves.
She sang of summer,
winter’s grip soon forgotten.
Peace always trumps fear.
Life is as it is.
No need to create anew.
Peace is snow and sun.
Elders learn by fall
that summer’s crises soon end.
Peace will come with calm.
All of man’s seasons
bring natural inventions,
peace the best of them.
One is not separate
from the earth at any time.
With peace, all are one.
There’s but one question,
summer, winter, spring and fall.
Will one work for peace?
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