by Dean Solon
the quiet
of the ocean’s thunder roar
is a stillpoint,
a silent space amidst the turbulence
insisted upon to drown out the peace
we can feel and be living with.
the urgency of the waves
pounding upon the shore
is a cascading call to be merciful
in a world intent on
distraction and disturbance.
the quiet
of the Big Sky
is a blue miracle
with its attendant wispy white companions
a reminder
of what we fitfully and fortunately remember:
the sacred majesty of creation
and all that is included,
riches too many to be named and numbered,
riches yet to be discovered,
a mystery not to be solved
but a mystery to be savored and shared.
we like to think we know what we are doing,
we like to believe we have a handle on all of this,
when what we know is life is short,
love is possible,
awe and wonder are exquisite.
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