Sterile gauze, a snowflake, an insipid dove
It's feisty and rich
Don't let the war boys hog it all
The spit, the spice and the glamour.
Peace is potency
Reaching and sprouting
Budding and branching
It's lifting things
A good scrap
A hot wrestle and a cool scrub
Cleansing and hope.
Peace is the empowerment of dust
Whispers of the song before origin
As out of seed
The cathedral of the body builds itself
It's spasms and metamorphoses
Of mind dancing
With the fecundator
To the music of need.
Is little orange bees
Spotted ladybugs on white campions
Late June with a stink of linden
Prickles and burrs
It's wild grapes in a bramble
A tough nut
Throught the night, at noon, in the morning
A juicy comeuppance
For the grim supressors.
Is for the star-biters and the rooted
Don't be dainty
Go at it
Hammer and tong.
Peace is not purity
Limp, neat and dry.
from, Manual for the Peacemaker- An Iroquois Legend to Heal Self and Society
by Jean Houston, Ph.D., with Margaret Rubin