Pine trees and cold noses, slow walk crushing leaves.
The audible stillness suggesting existence.
White rooftops and cars static, coffee dark.
Cinnamon rolls warm, windows present the soft fall of white.
Breathe deep, this is your winter.
This poem inspired by my winters spent in Washington as a child and also my age old love for poetry. There is something magical about the fall of snow, it ushers peace and play. I miss our snowy hill and hand me down snow boots. So simple and free, sledding down hills and being called in for a soup lunch.
I wander lost in search of peace, hanging on tight to what I find. So different with two babies in tow. I believe it can be inside of you and me, that it's a gift and a journey that must be accepted and pursued. That peace can come with you, wherever you go.
I'm finding peace in the quiet mornings before they wake. In the choosing rest instead of rush. Giving up the hurry. Slowing down to swing at the park and stay a little longer. Lingering at the breakfast table with my book. Having friends and family in my home, sitting on my couch and opening my fridge. Peace for me. Writing down miracles, praying for more. Walking slow and taking in my surroundings, eyes away from screens and on the sky. Running my finger over soft, baby cheeks, holding their feet in my hand.
Where are you finding and fighting for peace in your life?