With the deft precision of stones
we slid beneath the frenzy,
silently, like falling through water
down to the stillness. A settling
of sands, their quiet lift and gradual
return. Each particle always
in its perfect place. We nestle
where our essence sets us.

This peace will last. We’ll always
be able to find it. It is as true
as our belonging. As our being
what we are. As our constant
return to our source. As its
ever present tender hold
on our lives.

©Wendy Mulhern
December 25, 2013