Speak to me of lovely things, of treasures yet to be found,
of peace, that flows like a river.
Tell me of tranquil places that no hand has marred,
no storm has scarred.
Give me visions of standing in the sunlight,
or feeling the mist against my cheek as I move and live
Find me a place in the sun to sit and think
and listen to the sweet inner voice that says so quietly,
“Peace. Be still.”
Joyce Sequichie Hifler