Your fingers do not know soft leaves
nor supple skein of silkworm
Only the hardness of streets
And hiss of sharp metal blade
How you have forgotten
the years when you were young
Your hands were threading words &
lighting up candles in dark alleys
Your bed is now thin of sorrows
As you struggle to see the serene blue sky
above the ruins of scattered bricks
Suddenly, the air is black smoke of bitterness
As you fight for your breath
Is death the final harbinger of peace?
Whose peace?
Whose death?
You have no answer
As fling yourself to save
a stranger
from burst of gunfire across the street-
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Peace hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~ I decided to write about peace from a personal viewpoint.
In a way it is very true - the ultimate peace is death....
ReplyDeletebut hopefully we are spared from that 'peace' for a long time.
Im agree with this poem Grace.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely love this .
Remember me San Paul : "death where is your victory "?
Im agree with this poem Grace.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely love this .
Remember me San Paul : "death where is your victory "?
The tragic truth is there... the ultimate peace is death, but maybe if you've done something with it... there could be an aftermath..
ReplyDeleteThe ultimate final peace may be death, but we can still work and pray for it here and many times, achieve it, if only for just a small space. Peace has to begin in each of us before we go out into the world - we can't just work for peace, we have to be peace.
ReplyDelete"Peace on Earth, good will to men,"--a lovely sentimental platitude, but Peace where is thy white wings, as War fans the air with brass lead, chopping hopes into piles of the dead. This piece about peace is strong, & equally sad. I took the same bent with mine; no Pollyanna eyes amongst us. I like your lines /as I struggle to see the serene blue
ReplyDeletesky/above the ruins of scattered bricks/.
A lovely & touching piece.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully penned!
Lots of love,
Sanaa
Such an effective use of the second person to make it come alive. Every line says so much but I especially like threading words etc...beautiful, sad poem.
ReplyDeleteThis is great. I love the third stanza.
ReplyDeleteTrue, death is final, everything is done, so that is the ultimate peace. But let's avoid that for a while yet.
ReplyDeleteI really like that second stanza. Peace to you, Grace.
ReplyDelete"Your bed is now thin of sorrows" and "is death the final harbinger of peace?" are lines which especially grabbed me. A highly effective work, Grace.
ReplyDeleteFully agree with this.
ReplyDeleteTo give life to save a stranger...sounds like peacemaking to me. "Whose peace? Whose death?" are important questions to wrestle with.
ReplyDeleteI like the use of the second person - and how you convey the waste of a whole generation of people who will know nothing other than war and fighting.
ReplyDeleteYes, perhaps death is when we finally find the ultimate peace, so elusive in this life. Peace, Linda (Okay, so you know I always sign my comments that way, but it's going to be weird as I comment on poems to this prompt.)
ReplyDeleteThere is such wistfulness in your beautiful poem, Grace ... many times I've asked myself, "Is death the final harbinger of peace?" hoping to hear that it's not. Well done.
ReplyDeleteTough story -- it does make me thirst for peace.
ReplyDeleteMaybe death is the only harbinger of peace when living in a war zone. Brutal.
ReplyDeleteA place where
ReplyDeletepeace is
price of Love..
wHere village
SinGs connecTinG
no longer diviDinG
hands of fear..
peace will
never be
possible
now with
illusory
fears..
Fear the
father and
mother of
all hate
related
humans..
yes fear
fear..
Love
Free..:)
This is so beautifully written - an intense piece, delicately drawn.
ReplyDeletethought-provoking and powerful ~
ReplyDelete