And suddenly I am aware of the evergreens,
towering into the night sky.
Overhead, the darkened boughs gently sway,
Christmas trees centuries old, filling the sky with wisdom
The pebbled, earthy path winds under the pines,
but I pause a moment.
I see, peeking through the leafy boughs,
the stillness of a moonlit sky.
Craning to see those branches blackened by the shadows,
I see the light of the stars twinkling amidst them.
Without and within, the silence of the evening envelopes me.
The same God who formulated the spruce’s formidable height–
the same God who created me–
is the same God who said “peace, be still” this night.