Peace

Grant us this:
that peace not be an idle wish,
a pretty dream to wear
around our neck,
a muse or memory that sings
a summer campfire's song.
Let peace
eat into our bones;
let it brand our hearts
with such a burning mark
that it will say who owns us.
Through our tears,
let peace be salt and water,
an ocean's tide that swells and grows
and falls on every shore,
where all the world
may hear its rushing call.
Let it be soaring bird
that makes feathers in us
(so that we may rise to our own
most lofty place),
then comes to nest in us
through our most fearful nights.
Let it be our blood,
our word, our will,
the thing we carry
in our weaponed world
that leaves our arms wide open,
our hands empty, like a star,
always ready to bless,
to bless,
to bless.


--Timothy Haut, Feb. 16, 2016