In the Stillness

Along a forest path that few can see, Just as the sun is setting in the West, With owls and ancient oaks for company, I wander in my solitary quest. In shadowed dusk the world is at her best -- When lacy lichen clings to cooling stone -- The feathered robin turns toward her nest, And in the stillness I am all alone. There is within these woods an ancient tree Whose roots provide a peaceful place to rest; Like gentle fingers, they encircle me When by my thoughts I am too much oppressed. Then I am of a sudden joy possessed, Which I claim quickly for my very own; I feel the love of Life within my breast, And in the stillness I am all alone. And in that place, I ponder silently -- Admire the tiny toadstools neatly dressed In spots and colors, sitting quietly, And cannot help but by them be impressed. The rights of others they do not contest, Nor under worthless burdens grieve or groan; I understand their tiny lives are blest, And in the stillness I am all alone. So when dark doubts and fears have reached a crest, And deep despair has pierced me to the bone, I find that path and grant my heart's request; And in the stillness I am all alone.