Practicing
Peace
by
Yannis Angelis
Desire
for peace is nothing new.
It
has always been there
shimmering
under the heavy blankets
of history
paling
in insignificance
as
being heavy-lightly stepped upon
by
the boots of the young soldier who is yearning for victories.
Sinful
us, we have not been so much aware.
-
We are used to war…you told me once
I
love hearing your story of peace.
I
make a talisman out of it
so
that you feel
your
story was worth telling.
And
I will remember,
hanging
myself from the rainbow gleam of your yearning eyes
as
you were telling it.
And
I wonder…
What
kind of language does your memory speak?
What
are the weapons of peace, my sister?
Oxymoron!
What
is the smell of peace, my love?
Can
you tell me?
Or
better…
can
you dance it for me?
Can
you dance me the smell of peace?
What
are the weapons of peace, my friend?
Our
ever-born kindness,
our neighborliness,
our
yearning for connection and community,
our
nests of healing and repair,
our
thirst for harmony and happiness,
the
co-creation of the boundaries which stitch our differences?
…following the breaking of them once more
with tenderness
and love?
-We are going to bud them again, don’t be scared…you told
me once
What
are the weapons of peace, my brother?
A
paradox!
Maybe…our
new learning “what I practice, I become”.
Practice
pulls my inner peace with warmness into silence.
And
silence “holy-breads” my inner peace into practice.
Desire
for peace is nothing new.
It
has always been there
shimmering
under the heavy blankets
of history
And
now?
Now,
I love watching you making it a practice,
It
blossoms flowers of hope out of my chest
where
my homeland lies
in turbulence and hopelessness
gazing through the horizon
wanting to be reborn…
in peace.
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