Knowing Stillness

There is a stillness in the rock

Enshrouded in the snow
That I don’t truly understand,
But that I ought to know.
 
The long slow years without a change,
Though seasons come and go,
Borne up by roots that burrow deep
Within earth’s molten flow.
 
It does not fear the changing world,
With bitter winds that blow,
Nor dread the years that mark its face
With scars that clearly show.
 
It stands in perfect stillness there,
Beneath its robes of snow,
Living a peace and faithfulness
That I so long to know.