The Pace of Things

Swift things are beautiful:

A dog along the surf,

A growing child (all too)

Springtime, in its budding and flowering

And sudden storms,

And childhood (did I say childhood?),

And a year in my life these years.

Slow things are beautiful:

Sunday mornings

Long morning walks,

Eventual happiness and self-acceptance,

The way that the heart turns toward peace,

Toward truth, toward love.

And friendship, old pal, friendship.