Monday, August 3, 2009

Poem: True Weather

True Weather

The weather outside changes,
made fickle by the mountains and winds,
storms one minute,
peace and sun the next,
a puzzle of uncertainty,
with it's anger and joy.

But here in the sanctuary
of your soul,
all is peace,
a focus not on the world,
but the silence
that sings to God each morning
and is cradled by him
each night.


The picture was taken at a house in Washington Country, New York. You can click on it for a larger version.



FireLight said...

What a comforting idea... our nights being "cradled" by God. I am glad I saw this poem this morning.
thank you, Tom.

Poetikat said...

Lovely piece. The second stanza holds particular appeal for me.

Thanks you for your visit to Poetikat's Blasts From the Past and for your comment. I would be pleased if you would visit my alternate blog, "Poetikat's Invisible Keepsakes" where I focus mainly on poetry (but diverge occasionally).

Kat said...


Derrick said...

Hi Tom,

Nice words and thought.

willow said...

I like to think my soul is a sanctuary of peace. Lovely poem, Tom.