When was the last time you honestly spared a few minutes to stop and admire nature?  In the modern world we live in today, our cram packed schedules rule our minds and tend to hold our attention hostage.  While we may manage to battle off the inevitable pangs of stress for a short amount of time, it never fails to rattle us.  It is at this point, that we usually throw our hands up and let out an urgent cry for peace.  It is reassuring to know that we are not alone in this wonderful, yet at times, trying life.  But how do we even begin to attain peace in our crazy lives?

For centuries, several poets have been inspired by the beauty of nature.  Phillis Wheatley eloquently depicts the alluring and calming appeal of nature in her poems: A Hymn to the Morning and A Hymn to the Evening.  She sheds light on the value of basking in the undeniable beauty found just outside our door.  

An Hymn to the Morning

ATTEND my lays, ye ever honour’d nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev’ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather’d race resume,
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume.
Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display
To shield your poet from the burning day:
Calliope awake the sacred lyre,
While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire:
The bow’rs, the gales, the variegated skies
In all their pleasures in my bosom rise.
See in the east th’ illustrious king of day!
His rising radiance drives the shades away–
But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong,
And scarce begun, concludes th’ abortive song.

The message in her other poem A Hymn to the Evening offers us a similar message as the previous one.  

An Hymn to the Evening

SOON as the sun forsook the eastern main
The pealing thunder shook the heav’nly plain;
Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr’s wing,
Exhales the incense of the blooming spring.
Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes,
And through the air their mingled music floats.
Through all the heav’ns what beauteous dies are
spread!
But the west glories in the deepest red:
So may our breasts with ev’ry virtue glow,
The living temples of our God below!
Fill’d with the praise of him who gives the light,
And draws the sable curtains of the night,
Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind,
At morn to wake more heav’nly, more refin’d;
So shall the labours of the day begin
More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin.
Night’s leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes

In both poems, Wheatley declares a powerful and refreshing message: God is might and his splendor is evident in every blossom and every blade of grass.  His presence is in the gentle caress of the wind, it is in the ever changing sky, He is everywhere.   It is in the heavenly father’s wondrous works that we are able to relax our restless souls, that is if we only take the time to do so.  Will you cast aside your worries and allow yourself to bask in the Lord’s beautiful creation?