Ease the pounding of my heart by the quieting of my mind. Steady my hurried pace with a vision of the eternal reach of time. Give me, amidst the confusion of my day, the calmness of the everlasting hills. Break the tension of my nerves and muscle with the soothing music of the singing streams that live in my memory. Help me know the magical restorative power of sleep. Teach me the art of taking minute vacations, of slowing down to look at a flower, to chat with a friend, to pat a dog, to read a few lines from a good book.
Remind me each day of the fable of the hare and the tortoise, that I may know that the race is not always to the swift; that there is more to life than increasing its speed. Let me look upward into the branches of the towering trees, and know that they grow tall because they grow slowly and well. Slow me down, Lord, and inspire me to send my roots deep into the soil of life’s enduring values, that I may grow towards the stars my greater destiny.
*Although the original copy of this does not have attribution to any specific author, there is a website that claims that Wilferd Arlan Peterson, an american author may have written this piece, however, the footnote on the page indicates the following:
The poems on these pages were collected from various sources. If they belong to you , or you know the author's name, please contact me and appropriate changes will be made.
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