by Keith Lyndaker
Peace is a strange thing.
I have dedicated my life to it.
My life has been changed by it,
but somehow within I am still in conflict.
In my heart I can find no rest.
I feel so weak,
tossed by the wind of every little thing,
nervous before a hard conversation,
so quick to anger at any perceived slight
Where is this peace that passes all understanding?
It is a gift,
as close as a petition,
a prayer from a grateful soul.
It is the guardian
of my heart and my mind.
I am commanded to not
All I have to do is be present
to its blowing.
All I have to do is ask for the wind.
(reprinted from peacegrooves.wordpress.com)