Sister Poetry

My mind chatters
    like a squirrel in an elm.

My silly heart follows,
     wishing not to take the helm.

But nature has a message
      if I but quiet down:

"Do I hustle?" asks the oak--
     " I am sentinel to the sky."

"Am I rushing?" asks the lake--
      "I reflect as time goes by."

All of creation 
       joins in the song:

SIT     REST    SILENCE
       that you, too, may BE-long.