Hymn to Peace
When fears walk on the belly of the earth, when the soles of hatred trample the soft meadows of the human soul, then I believe in the strongest in peace.
Peace does not lose temper, it does not violently break the boundary of my being. It descends into me like the transparent veil of the summer mist that covers the back of the sensual earth.
It is placed in the basket of my words, it is exchanged like a fraternal kiss, it radiates like the snow of cherry blossoms.
She does not wear any mask, does not have dyed hair, no tense stroke breaks the harmony of her face.
Peace does not know that it is peace, it flows like a perfume between the shores of the wind, penetrates between the cracks of the heart like a brook that disappears in the heart of the rock going to speak to the mysterious things that are buried there since the dawn of time.
The precious drop of water that sparkles on the back of the dove, a song of love that rises from an oasis, is peace.
Peace no longer remembers war, it no longer remembers lying, it forgot the dagger of words, the acid of looks, it is clothed in the royal mantle of the present.
She is a horse who has quenched herself in the palm of love.
It does not speak, it does not scream but it harmonizes with the heart as a response that marries a question.
Peace enlightens the soul, enlightens the heart, enlarges the mind.
She is not a judge, she does not hold accounts, it is the morning that breathes the blooming of the coming day, the harvest that awaits summer and dresses the words I chose to speak to A heart that already comes to me.