Thursday, June 1, 2017

Go to the Edges

The center is not where
You come to rest
Apart from it all, 
But it is what holds you while
You go to
Edges.

And go to them for
Everything you believe in,
For everything that is 
Rare and real to you.
Go to the edges 
For the gaping earth and the 
Devastated lives,
For the swallowtail butterfly,
And the dog with the sad eyes,
And the mother who 
Went thirsty for days
To flee a pointed gun
And cross a border.
Go for the one who does not know
That her laughter is fragile,
For the one who holds a flower
And not a bomb.
Peace
Is not an inherited gift,
But is made 

As we live.  

- Laura Martin

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