Slow

January 2, 2023

Slow, let this year

Pass slow –

As a peaceful brook

Let it flow.

Not like a great river,

That makes haste for the sea,

A vigorous tumult –

My natures proclivity.

Winding and churning,

With rapidity pushing on,

In chaotic disorder

I seek that beyond.

But does not the trickle

Of the brook too meet the sea? It may take it more time,

But it too shall be.

When this trickle is swept

Into a river by duress,

Let it look for a brook

Where it again will find rest.

Carried along slowly,

Finding joy in the pace,

Let me long for the shore

Without need of the haste.

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