Peace Midst Change Poem by james watkin

1/

Approaches the hour, engulfs
Day with its look muddy.
Haunts these land features, lineaments
Of these faces, all friendly.

A lost world, reproducing;
With its extinct creature.
At least till eons of time
Have passed; sleep's to measure!


2/


Changes, they do happen
By the second!
How within that storm's eye
Do we respond?

Buffetted, back and forth;
Past, and future!
Tumultuous distress!
Yet feel secure!

With what's just said, with this
Best resonates.
Whose 'peace at the centre'
Quaker relates.