Heartbeat of the World: A Nature's Solace Poem
Sometimes when I grow weary of the media servers
hawking today’s specials, the Outrage du Jour —
so tired from furiously rocking this plastic horse, trying
to preserve my peace while finding my lever and place to stand —
then I have to step outside to listen for the heartbeat of the world.
There’s something reassuring about how
the sun rises every morning, whether I notice it or not.
How it slips over the horizon and silhouettes the clouds in a white-gold splendor.
How it sugar-sparkles the grassy green and turns the midnight sky to blue.
The mockingbird still perches atop my neighbor’s roof and sings his little heart out.
And hiding in the morning glories, the tiniest, most modest toad sings as well.
Neither asks whether the world is worthy of song.
Neither waits for all to be made right.
They simply offer what is theirs to give:
a breath, a voice, a praise.
And what is mine to do, as I hover here between green and blue?
How shall I offer dignity amidst this dread,
resilience in the midst of rancor,
steadiness in the storm?
Perhaps, murmurs the heartbeat, it’s not about grand agendas.
Perhaps it is only that the sun will rise,
the mockingbird will sing, the toad will answer,
and that my task is neither to save all, nor to despair of any,
but simply to join the song with all the love my heart can bring.
September 2026
Such a lovely poem 💞
This is a beautiful poem, Celeste. The world is worthy of all your songs—and I am privileged to hear your melodies. Have you gathered them into a book yet? And if so, may I have the title and info about where to get it? And if not, o urge you to begin now.