deliverers of ultimatums
Sequestered in forests of greed
Boiling dreams of their highest
And best into stews of carnage.
How deliberate is this action of desired power?
Can we set it aside and allow
The bold scenting of
A never-ending nightmare to fester
And remain forever heightened?
Hope awaits us
It is around the next bend
In the flight of wings
In the stroke of a child’s cheek
Along the banks of rippling unceasing waters
Harmonies with no words.
No testament to want
Other than the flow of
Peace and hope