Through the thin blue light
of this slight dawn,
I look out across the lawn,
see the breeze pulsing the leaves
of the cottonwood
rising dark, dark and high
above the horse pen.

The wind bends branches
in a soft dance of motion,
shaping the morning,
forming patterns of dark shadow
against the faint form of the hills
a half-mile away.

I find this soothing,
a quieting of the soul,
hold still for a moment,
absorbing the silence;
even the beat of my heart
slows in this peace.

We are often surrounded
by the drumming of a world
we did not make,
forced into the slip
like clay molded into unthinking likeness,
our lips speaking the words of others.

Though imperfect in my following,
I have chosen a better forming,
a deliberate imitation
of a pattern of peaceful rebellion,
to bear within my heart
a reflection of greater light,
a letting go of those impulses
that would carry me
beyond this large cottonwood tree,
beyond this weaving of light and shadow.

I have chosen a raging peace
that teaches me that moving to a better place
often begins with accepting where I am.

H. Arnett
5/6/14