Birds Of Peace Poem by Jyoti Wind

Out of the wayward skies
upon the branches of a bare winter tree
alight the birds of peace.
God knows, we need them now.
We always thought there was only one
in the form of a dove,
white and soft and downy,
with the proverbial olive branch
held lightly in her beak.

How can a peace offering
be held lightly
when the world’s battlefields
are running with blood and gore.
It must be clutched to the heart
where all light and the ideals
of true human life reside
and can imbue that peace offering
with all the heart can call upon.

The tree rustles itself
among the settling of feathers and claws
as the birds of peace dig in.
They are here.
They are not leaving anytime soon.
They have been called out of the Universal Mind
by those whose souls have been
sickened by war
and have cried ‘enough’
loud enough
for them to hone in on and arrive.

These birds of peace
will continue to hold the space
until we,
as sleep-walking humans,
awake to our own evolutionary cues,
and remember that we alone
are responsible for what happens here.
That we alone
are the peace makers and the war mongers
and the choice is always ours.