Peace is a Flower

the miracle of a single flower – Molly Strong

I tried to find her in the morning sun,

the reason we might hold our son,

the purpose beyond loving our daughter,

our family, our rock, as life may occur.


I read the news again this morning,

only to already know there is mourning,

again, while the world naturally dies,

we forgot the helplessness we realize.


So today our lives, our lives will continue

while again we glance toward a sky blue

with envy the world we see is our tease,

such a beautiful shelter is a common breeze.


I wonder sometimes if I know how to feel

when in the grasp of a world of true evil,

I choose to clean my garage, empty the trash,

bury the fortunes of humanity amidst the ash.


I read about another killing spree just today,

the sort my society asks I quickly pretend away.

Find a forest green and walk deliberate in nature

to recognize a detachment from hurt, ah, mature.


So I did, I walked deep into the density of time,

breathe the fragrance of simpler love sublime,

I stood inside this dream far away from forever,

to gasp, to cry, to bathe my sorrow, in a flower.


© Thom Amundsen 2016

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