Peace is not silence, nor sleep, nor end,
but the breath you take when the wounds begin to mend.
It lives in the pause, the quiet release,
the hand unclenched, this is peace.
It does not come by sword or crown,
nor from the world when noise dies down.
It blooms within, a secret flame,
that burns without need of praise or name.
Peace is the river that carries all pain,
turning the stones to smoothness again.
It whispers through leaves, it sings in the seas,
it waits in the heart of all who believe. So seek it not in power’s guise,
nor in the market of men’s lies.
For peace is found when you let be,
a mirror clear: eternity.
More Poems from Peace below.