My portion of peace,
is found in the hands
that created beauty in sights and sounds.
Hands that carved out waves
that constantly fall on top of one another
anticipating their return back to solid rock.
Tree tops that rise from good soil
growing rings that account for every year
they've stretched to touch the wonders of the sky.
A sky that is home to a sun
that even smiles through the break of clouds
and holds a moon that even when not whole
still stands boldly against the dark with the stars
The breezes blow and the earth shakes
and all creation sings praises
to the hands that give life
to my portion of peace.