When the rain comes hard in sheets making a dull rushing roar on the roof, when the wind arcs the branches high above, when the roses bow their heads and the grass drapes to the ground, then I know catharsis.

When the trees undress and stand slumbering, their leaves blanketing the earth beneath them, when mist rises wispy and delicate from the dark wet ground, when the summer flowers have all faded to the color of straw, then I know stillness.

When the sun sinks and shines brilliant the last light of day through the silver clouds, when the light fades from gold to amber, when a prism bends a bow from each end of the horizon, then I know peace.