Letter: A call for peace
P.E.A.C.E.: Poem of Experience, to Aid a Corrupted Earth
By Michael Imhof, 19
Righting wrongs, alight in ignorance.
Words fall short of serving penance.
Writing songs and story’s then, is
More a soul’s task than a man’s.
Plucking waste from off the road,
The path is burdened, heavy load.
Joy in heart and peace of thought
Guide true actions, life aloft.
Veering off the crippled trail,
Climbing up in deathly veil,
Fled from gore and metal,
A moment’s score to settle.
Love lifts up, a body’s weight,
To view that which all things create.
Losing breath from effort’s pull,
Sustained by heart now flowing, full.
In haste and rhyme a peak is met,
Mortal measure, must forget.
Now upside down, upon its head,
A certainty that love’s not dead.
The sight from high, of earth and sky,
As sunlight falls, reminds of why,
A being so small, so fragile and imperfect,
Can live with all, and know they’re worth it.
Now having lost the self at summit,
A gentle urge to jump and plummet,
Meets with breath and life’s resolve,
To leap back down, a new free fall.
Then bliss and action, tumbling glory,
The climax of this lovely story.
Held within the arms of grace
The being flows through, and to its place.
Gratitude for a safe descent,
For rock, and tree, and crow are rent,
Out of the lips of fragile soul,
As peace and love became its goal.
The words and failures, in the past,
Unfixed by truth, they never last,
Instance is the only spot,
The moment now, is all we’ve got.
Here above a range of villainy,
Kindness, true, is all we really need.
Juniper, now burnt and broken,
In their loss, the heart must open.
Life of all kinds, big and small,
Preserve our meaning. Heed the call.
Then knowing of the hurt we cause,
Lay down all guns and sheath all claws.
For violence is become life’s bane,
In taking and breaking we lose our name.
Divine, was once a flow to live.
Love our only force to give.
Yet in this world for pleasure’s sake,
There’s little that we do not take,
Remembering this, an ancient code,
A being can choose to change its mode.
Crystalline refractions of loss
Made whole in touch of stone and moss
As keepers of the truth and love,
We build a brighter world above,
The bitter steel of death unreal,
Distracting from that which we feel,
Is right and wrong and purposeful,
The belief, that we are worthless, null.
To sift through waste upon the earth
Retrieving sense of self and worth
And spreading that which each has learned
We can re-grow that which we’ve burned.
The weapons that we all posses
Not guns, evil devices, but I digress
They are the actions of anger and fear
And the words unkind that draw a tear
In every being, there is potential to hurt
To take or to harm, or leave down in the dirt,
A being, just like them, in need or in pain.
With our fear, we neglect love, and of honesty refrain.
But knowing the value of life in one instance,
Should turn violence and lies into truth and forgiveness.
The worth of each beautiful creature, plant, and person
Like the sun can shine on, in this flux of creation.
So a being that can climb, and strip waste from the ground,
Can strive ever onward, in word and in sound,
To live every instance, to teach and be taught,
To convert experience, with words into thought.