Village Idiot Publishing (C) 2000 diary of a Spirit
TIME OF PEACE
In the early morning,
The wind whistles peace,
And the air, smells Of the scent of musk.
Opening my eyes To the sight of birds in the trees,
The sound of their voice tells me,
I'm in the right place,
And I'm finally one with them.
There is no pain or lack of provision,
It is a perfect world, And we care not for anything.
Quiet is the sound of peace,
When harmony abounds everywhere.
It is the feast, and joy is with us,
And singing and song is in our hearts.
Oh if only I could share,
The love of peace with all.
The sound of the accordion,
The voice of my brethren singing in the morning.
With coffee brewing on an open fire,
The smell reaches into my nostrils,
And brings me to life from my slumber.
Tomorrow will be another day,
And the world will take it's prey,
But it will not be known to me,
For I will not see it, Or even think that it exists,
For it has gone away for a while And I will heal.
But a tear will fall, when the time comes to return,
To the world, and the madness I escape.
For their peace is never to be,
And their sorrow will never heal.
Yet they will not try to seek it,
Even though they are filled with pain.
And they cannot see That it waits for them,
If only they would join the feast.