Your soul staggers? You know well it will not have peace at your compromise.
Write it. Cast the overflow of your grateful heart toward the white clouds, peaceable there over the mountains, might it carried be lovingly, like a Dandelions seed on the wind across a whispering field. How pleasant for them, upon whose shoulder might your words fall, wondering and in desert.
It's so quiet up here, and peaceful. How very little most of what I've been concerned with actually reaches me. How much I've taken for granted.