Creating Sanctuary

 

I built my house of driftwood and sea fog,

wrapped it around me, the way a sand dollar

creates its home from sand and grit around it

and carries it within.

I go there when the world is loud and cruel,
injustice and inhumanity too much to bear,

pull the drawbridge up, bathe in silence

and necessary peace, turn off the news,

turn on gratitude, quietude,
my beating heart
steadying

like the ticking clock on the windowsill

of my childhood.

I create a sanctuary there, where cruelty

has no place, and beauty
and compassion still exist
- (that line of monks, padding softly
through the snow) -
where all the values I hold dear

still shine. I create poems in that peaceful place,
a line of walking monks, some grace,

reminding us that beauty is still here,

kindness still lives. They are telling us

it is still all ours to give.

for Susan's prompt at What's Going On: Creation