Sweet Blessed Peace Poem by Lauren Kapusta

Philosophers, atheists, economists and the,
Elite can't seem to decide on one thing:
What is peace?
It is only an opinion of the heart to me.
I myself have my own decree.

Peace is sitting under a tree from the hot sun.
It's the wind rustling in the leaves.
It's the cricket playing a song for you.
It's a calm sapphire sky with puffy clouds.

Peace is a beach at sunset.
It's the warm feeling of sand on your feet.
It's the wind dying down for the day.
It's the high tide that bathes your skin.

Peace is feeling your emotions aren't stormy.
It's an invisible hand no longer on your chest.
It's a veil that is pulled away to reveal glee.
It's a guardian angel that lets you sleep.

Peace is a flicker of the flame of accomplishment.
It's the solution to an obnoxious obstacle.
It's the product of a full-blown endeavor.
It's an assurance more fruit will be harvested.

Yet at the same time it is many things!
I am correct and incorrect.
Peace warms our hearts and soothes frayed nerves.
It's our wishes that have become realities.
It's only an opinion and perception.

But again, the minds and the every men,
Will further ponder and debate to no avail.
What is peace?
Now you tell me.