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From the January 1992 issue of The Christian Science Journal

There is a quietness
In me today.
The winds of history
Have swept the scene
And plucked the shriveled leaves
To crown the green.

Shadows no longer cross
The path I tread.
The rain no longer falls
Like silver thread.
The thunder pall
Is lifted from the skies.

Calm comes to me:
A peace, a quietness,
The joy of triumph
For a service done.
The tempest past,
The open port alight,
The harbor won.

Reprinted with permission.

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