A World Woven of Calm - Tetralogy Part 4
If these three words could find a single form,
A world protected from life's raging storm,
It would not be a place of gold and might,
But one of gentle, unassuming light.
Imagine now, a cove of silver sand,
In some forgotten, mist-enshrouded land.
The cliffs are ancient, carved by wind and sea,
And on their heights, a single, twisted tree.
The air is soft, the sky a faded rose,
And in the stillness, a deep quiet grows.
The tranquility would be the ocean's sigh,
As gentle waves in a whispered lullaby,
Caress the shore with rhythmic, softest grace,
And leave no trace of time upon this place.
No jarring sound, no echo of the fray,
Just water, wind, and the last light of day.
The peacefulness would be the world in tune,
Beneath the silver, melancholic moon.
The seabirds nesting, sheltered from the blast,
Their fleeting worries in the ocean cast.
A harmony of life, a world aligned,
With every creature, gentle, good, and kind.
And in this haven, as the stars ignite,
A deep serenity, a burning light,
Would rise within the soul, a quiet flame,
And whisper softly its eternal name.
A feeling of completeness, whole, and free,
A silent merging with the sky and sea.
This place would be a mirror to the soul,
A world where broken things are rendered whole.
A sacred space, where all the striving ends,
And in the quiet, the true self transcends.
A world of serenity, a tranquil shore,
Where peace resides, forever and a day.
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