Poem: Restless


Flowers on the altar.
Light through the stained glass window.
A row of candles flicker.

Peace. A moment of it at least.
Still life.

But you are restless.
It is an affliction,
when the peace you seek day after day,
suddenly needs ruffling.

You wait.
One by one the candles go out.
The sun goes down.
The trick is this, to leave
before the last candle goes out
and the come back to light them again
whenever the morning comes.

About this poem.

“You are restless.” my wife told me this morning. She knows me well, this woman I love. And restlessness for me is never about dissatisfaction, only a need to travel, to see, be, experience something new, and the journey there and back.

Some will understand. Some will not.


PS: I have no idea where I took this picture, but I am guessing, from the style, that it was from Olana, home of Frederick Church, one of the painters from the Hudson River School of painters.


  1. It’s interesting, how the past year of being unable to travel has changed my own restlessness. A few months ago I was ready to just burst out the door and go anywhere just to GO! Yet as things open up I find myself feeling more intentional about where I want to wander. I do know Vermont will be one destination .

    • It is my hope, (not my belief, but my hope) that more of us will become more intentional as we emerge from this time of quarantine and fear. Dire times should teach us things. That is part of what gives them meaning. I will be fascinated by your choices. (and I am glad Vermont is one!)

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