Classic Poem

Stalled on the sidelines we must hope and wait,
We who build visions of a world at peace.
We cannot bid the cindery storms to cease,
Nor halt the flame-winds of men's rage and hate.
Nor can we dream that pens will legislate
Or the heart check the sword while swords increase,
Nor that our sobs or prayers will earn release
From those blood-spotted hands that desecrate.

Yet this we know: the world is peace at heart.
With peace the woods are green; the stars recite
Her wordless litanies; and in the soul
Of the strong hills she plays a timeless part,
And in man's spirit, where she comes by night
And shall remain when the last gunfires roll.

Stalled on the sidelines we must hope and wait,
We who build visions of a world at peace.
We cannot bid the cindery storms to cease,
Nor halt the flame-winds of men's rage and hate.
Nor can we dream that pens will legislate
Or the heart check the sword while swords increase,
Nor that our sobs or prayers will earn release
From those blood-spotted hands that desecrate.

Yet this we know: the world is peace at heart.
With peace the woods are green; the stars recite
Her wordless litanies; and in the soul
Of the strong hills she plays a timeless part,
And in man's spirit, where she comes by night
And shall remain when the last gunfires roll.