Peace

Peace

The oppressive heat of the afternoon has yielded to the temperate early evening.  The world has drifted from brightness through shades of amber and ruddy orange and into deepening blue.  The faint buzz of myriad insects has been overtaken by the hum of the little frogs which lurk in the bushes singing softly to each other.  The smoke from my cigar swirls aimlessly before me until at last, with the almost imperceptible swaying of a blade of grass the only indication of its presence, the remnant of some earlier breeze gathers and slowly carries it away.  The ice clicks gently as the cold tartness of my tea sweeps across my tongue and down my throat, and then a bead of sweat laboriously wends its way down the side of the glass after I have replaced it on the table beside me.  My book now laid aside, I revel in the moment.  I am at peace.  Christ is risen, after all, and my Lord reigns.  I give Him thanks for my moment of joy at the close of day.