FINDING PEACE

By, Myra Wexler Darwish

I looked in the grandest places,

The sky, the sea, the woods,

And began to find its traces,

Where I had sat and stood.

The skies had magic in their form,

From sunrise till the dusk.

Color was the bounteous norm,

Changing clouds from pink to rust.

The sea and its endless patterns,

From stillness to great waves,

Spoke of quietude and yearning,

Treasured memories I will save.

The woods whispered their secrets,

With the rustling of the leaves.

I listened not to rush or fret,

Enraptured by the breeze.

Each moment of my ardent quest,

Felt like time would never cease.

Enshrining within my joyful chest,

The residue of peace.

© Copyright 2016 Myra Wexler Darwish