By Peace in the woods
Meandering among strewn fall colors,
The forest path slows my brisk morning gait,
Striking me about peace and its flavors,
Of men, their actions and their essential fate.
Still air stirs not a leaf nor bends a bough,
yet creates in me a whirlpool of thought
Where shall I gather it, where can I sow,
Seeds of peace: or can it be ever bought!
Where shall peace go in a world of chaos,
When life hires death for material goods,
I shudder at deaths shadow and pathos,
I stop, among the glowing autumn woods.
When silence dwells in the eyes filled with love,
Peace resides in wings of the morning dove.
-Ranjit K Sahu
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