Embryo in frozen state, life that lies in whispered hush;
Seeds have time to contemplate prospective perks of being crushed.
Future fruit that owes its taste to winter’s harshest, toughest blow,
Shows us nothing is a waste – frost breaks us down to help us grow.
Peace is pollen, miniscule seed
That roots in mindful soil; it breeds
Where thoughts are harboured, captured by
A mind that chooses what supply
To water, weed, and tend with care,
And which to deny access there.
After thoughts which harm are routed
Peaceful seeds can then be sprouted;
Global gardens introspected
Are the places peace perfected.
Peace begins within – before hatred can grow and germinate, it must be thought, considered, ingested into the soul. As our hearts move toward those in Paris and Beirut who have suffered at the hands of hatred, I must ask – How does your garden grow?
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 