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Peace, Peace, Peace

Restless souls turn aimless eyes to the wind
It is invisible (the wind), but tangible
"Peace," it whispers, and peace it yearns to leave
And peace it does leave, for those awake to catch it

Peace is not some curious, foreign substance
Not something searched for down ruthless streets and dark hearts
Nor is it something attained by hate or indifference
Peace does not leave us, though it is often lonely

Peace is present in hopeful eyes and open hands
In embraces and uncrossed arms
It longs for us, as much as we long for it
If we call upon it, Peace, will not disappoint.

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"We think of God in the dramatic things, the glorious sunsets, the majestic mountains, the tempestuous seas; but he is in the little things too, in the smile of a passerby or the gnarled hands of an old man, in a daisy, a tiny insect, falling leaves. God is in the music, in laughter and in sorrow too. And the grey times, when monotony stretches out ahead, these can be the times of steady, solid growth into God. Until we dwell in him and allow him to dwell in us we shall be strangers to peace." - Prayer by Mother Frances Dominica
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