Still and calm,
In purple robes of kings,
The low-lying mountains
sleep at the edge of the world.
The forests cover them like mantles;
Day and night
Rise and fall over them
like the wash of waves. 
Asleep, they reign.
Silent, they say all.
Hush me, O slumbering mountains –
Send me dreams.
~Harriet Monroe “The Blue Ridge”

If you find yourself half naked
and barefoot in the frosty grass, hearing,
again, the earth’s great, sonorous moan that says
you are the air of the now and gone, that says
all you love will turn to dust,
and will meet you there, do not
raise your fist. Do not raise
your small voice against it. And do not
take cover. Instead, curl your toes
into the grass, watch the cloud
ascending from your lips. Walk
through the garden’s dormant splendor.
Say only, thank you.
Thank you.
~Ross Gay “Thank You”

I live for those who love me,
Whose hearts are kind and true;
For the heaven that smiles above me,
And awaits my spirit, too;
For all human ties that bind me,
For the task my God assigned me,
For the bright hopes left behind me,
And the good that I can do.

For the cause that needs assistance,
For the wrongs that need resistance,
For the future in the distance,
And the good that I can do
~George Linnaeus Banks from “What I Live For”

Our surrounding hills circle like wagons,
their strong shoulders promising steadfast protection.
Above them, the palette of sky changes with the weather,
as turmoil and turbulence continually stirs up our world.

There is so much good to be done:
our world needs hands-on, hearts-on work
for causes needing assistance –
for wrongs needing resistance.

Feeding, housing, healing, caring,
for those in our own neighborhoods
won’t make headlines like blocking freeways and college buildings.

Rather than raising tents and fists, idle hands can serve.
Rather than raising voices and drums, heads can bow in grateful prayer.

The mountains remind us:
Though we are here and now, we will soon turn to dust.
They ask us:
How to live a life that truly makes a difference for those in need?