Peace

Poem

If I drink from the fresh water
of the river of life —
without haste,
without fear,
free from all inner conflict,
in the presence of the sacred —
there, I am at peace.

But…
could it all be just a dream?

Without silence,
without reflection,
without an attentive gaze,
without the reaching of a hand,
life slips away
in the endless struggle of each day.

Can we go beyond?
Is there a way out?

A timid voice
whispers: yes.
It is the voice of pure longing.
And through it,
after a long and weary journey,
one arrives at the source of life.
And the fruit it bears
is peace.