Dove on a tree silhouetted against an orange sky


I don’t, generally speaking, consider myself a poet. But then, isn’t everyone, sometimes? Most don’t share their poetry, and that is reasonable and fine. But my goal, the goal of Brave Wednesdays, is to share things that I wouldn’t have been brave enough to share without this weekly nudge. So here is a little piece I wrote in May of 2012.

Let me tell you what peace is.

Peace is when you and me, we fought before but now we aren’t.

Because that’s mostly what peace is—an absence.
An absence of fighting.
An absence of anger.

But mostly, it’s what fills up that space
That ginourmous space where we hold
Our angers and fears and our insults
Ready to hurl.

If you had a little space in there, right in that spot,
What would you store there?
What would grow there?
Could you breathe there?