Peace is that elusive place much sought after, yet rarely found. It is the Nirvana of harried mothers and fretful fathers and the fantasy of the troubled.
Peace is...
Peace hand holds with silence
in night darkness
until a rill of conscience
washes over the sleeper;
cease-fire ending
as the nightmare begins.
Peace is...
the silence
after fists of passion
have been spent
and she answers back no more
his heart pounding
hers stilled forever.
Peace is...
the stillness
after the last cannon fires,
when smoke settles over corpses
strewn across battle fields
in the period of shock
before the keening begins.
Peace is...
the calm
of a starving child
born into famine
accepting of its fate
no blame or shame
to fill empty bowls.
Rather lovely, Merlene.
ReplyDeletea-z
Thank you, Donna.
ReplyDeleteSo poignant Merlene and encapsulates so well the poles of peace and tragedy. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteGarden of Eden Blog
Peace touche us in so many ways and is so needed...
ReplyDeleteThank you,
Susan
Garden of Eden Blog
I love this poem. It rather describes the inner mechanics of my bipolar mind. Nothing I can do to make it anything other than what it is, so I choose to accept it.
ReplyDeleteI'm visiting from NaPoWriMo. Our site is Poetry of the Netherworld. Oh yes, we're doing the A to Z thing too!