Come, clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I
And the tree and stone were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your brow
And when you yet knew you still knew nothing.
~ Maya Angelou, from “On the Pulse of the Morning”
(The Rock Cries Out To Us Today)
Sing with me. Someone said to sing, and I cannot sing alone.
Sing, said the voice, “It’s now time to sing Peace on Earth.”
I’ve seen peace hide in my cook pot and in your bed. Good Morning.
Sing Peace out into the open where it belongs.
No time to discover where the voice originates. It is—
or it isn’t. Let’s sing, not knowing. Let’s sing Peace.
Drones will drop from the sky in the instant. Border guards will put
down their guns and lend a hand to those who need help.
Apples, cheese and sunflower seeds will erase hunger. Water
will stream clear and potable in roadside ditches.
Sing, sing. See how safely welcome opens doors. See how ceilings
hold when bombs stop flying. See children stop crying.
Sing ourselves into hope. Believe it is now time to sing Peace
on Earth. Sing in tune or out of key. Both will do.
We’ve waited for our cue, and here it is. Now. Peace on Earth. Now.
Lift on the song, spondee or anapest. Peace On.
Earth Peace. On Earth. Peace On. Earth Peace. On Earth. Peace on Earth.
Is it rising like sun at dawn? Like moon and tides?
Is it rising invisible like ghosts or winds, that movement
reveals? Let’s sing into movements, sing unto life.
It’s a good morning, indeed, when we wake ready and willing
to bring peace out of hiding and make it flourish.
For Sumana's prompt
(After reading Angelou's poem, I had nothing more to say. She says it all.)
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2018 Susan L. Chast