Sit alone by an open window
as rain-cooled wind tosses the trees,
scatters the white petals of viburnum
like your own useless thoughts
on soft mulch beneath. Hear how the air
carries the calls of newly fledged wrens
resting for now in a brush pile,
afraid to fly. Let peace swoop down
into your life, perch in the empty branches
of your lungs with each newborn breath.
Let stillness take your hand as when
you were a child, and they said:
if you’re lost in the woods or confused
by a crowd, it helps to stay in one place—
not moving, doing nothing so that
you may be found again.
—James Crews
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