Those times require nothing more
Than open air and space
No phones, no news, no talking heads
Blessed times, so rare and base.

With clouds or sunshine, breeze or calm
Or kissed by natures sound
Without demands, without reproach
No seeking common ground.

No finding fault, nor finding ways
To ease some Other’s pain.
Just time to tend to one’s own needs
And moments to refrain.

My mind at rest, my soul at peace,
Doors open to my heart,
The spirit moves within me then
Transpiring form to art.

In perfect peace, with pen in hand,
The inspirations flow,
And once again I write the words
That God wants me to know.

For this world turns too fast, it seems
I love to simply pause
To let the light come pouring in
While setting loose the flaws.