Center of Peace

I walk outside,

Stretch in the early sunshine,

Give thanks for the spring warmth

That has awakened my roses.

I am feeling the oneness with...

     Hey, why can't my neighbor's gardener

     clear the damn leaves without

     the infernal racket of that

     unholy air blowing machine?

I pause,

Catch the rancor of my thought,

Notice that the rose is still bright

And the warbling bird still calls for his mate.

At this, I realize the

Center of Peace must be within me.

Copyright © 2010 Mary Beth Watt. All rights reserved.