What I Mean By Peace

I am saying a lot more than
give peace a chance.
Peace is not penicillin, the philosopher’s stone or the fountain of youth
It is not a fettered miracle
that merely freed, given a chance
will fix it all with a shimmering of pixie dust
while we lie back in hammocks of self-righteousness.

Peace is hard.

Peace is an all night tearful discussion full of
difficult words and misunderstandings
but based on a bedrock of honesty.

Peace is an awkward shared custody agreement
where the parents see far more of each other than they’d like
but still refuse to play tug-of-war with the children.

Peace is the salty freedom
of saying “I was wrong” or
“I screwed up” when it’s true.

Peace is a closet cleaning every spring,
all skeletons sent to the high school bio lab.

Peace is marathon debating sessions
hard questions about want and plenty,
values and rights,
individuals and communities and cultures.

Peace is presenting a poem
or our national story
for critique
and listening without being defensive
really wanting to make it better.

Peace is the courage to pull the scab off
the wound of history to extract a thorn,
a bullet, the shards of a broken promise
and then sticking around to help it heal again.

Peace is a woman who walks alone at night
even though she is afraid
because the more people who walk
the safer it is.

Peace will come from nations that are willing to choose
roads that don’t double back in violent circles
that are willing to choose
roads whose beginnings are rocky
and whose happy destinations
may not be within this lifetime’s grasp.