I believe, in the stillness
of these old woods,
the silence and peace
of the Beginning still lingers;
a reminder of the time
When atoms snuggled so close
self and other wasn’t even
a theoretical possibility.
And now, I can trace each needle,
each seed of a fallen cone,
and see so much space
echoing a wholeness never really lost,
spread out and out,
in a riot of color and texture and light.
Peace must ray out like the sun,
like a creative idea.
Peace must also snuggle into the folds
of skin around our eyes,
tucking us into darkness as well.
I can hear it in the first crow call of the morning,
and it will be my last conscious breath
in the end
Find the entire poetry collection This Nurturing Awe: Poems Inspired by the 99 Beautiful Names of God at