BEING PEACE
Thanksgiving decorations
seem strangely
out of place
here
where the harvest has been
over for months and
the red and gold
leaves
have been smothered by the snow
that will be here until
April
overstaying its welcome.
The morning is cold, dark, and still
except for the manic chickadees
swooping to the feeder,
grabbing a seed and
flying away.
Wrapping myself in a shawl
I take my seat by
the window.
Cradling my cup of tea
I hold the mug to
my face
Letting my breath mingle with
the wispy tendrils of heat
escaping from the mug
into the air.
I feel the peace wrapping itself
around me
and
flowing into me.
I watch the candle flames dance
to the peaceful sounds
of the chants that
flow from the
stereo
no other light but that of my own
contentment.
In a while I will pick up some
reading
or some
knitting
but for now
I will just sit here
being peace
and radiating joy.
