I'm standing at the window looking out;
war and hate and death and fire and flood
are stitched into my mind these words I sew
a clashing patchwork quilt with threads of blood.
But then I see a flash of red and blue
birds sitting side by side beneath the seed,
taking turns, respecting each wing's space
as others peck at bark from Father Tree.
And all at once I'm filled with inner peace,
I know this moment here is everything;
no war nor hate nor death nor fire nor flood
can ruin purls of pearls sweet nature brings.
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