Peri Posts

A bad day

Slabs of storm scourge

Scratching and sniffing out the weak

As the depths of the ocean burst

Scattering a hurricane of blood thirst

As it knives, as it hurts, as it lets fly

Its silver array of bullets from the sky

They crash down, leaving no space,

No stopping the pace of the guns, a race

That wraps itself around your soul.

Then you drop your bag.

Looking up, a smile greets you-

Palming your purse.

the moment passes, and your luggage straps itself softly on your shoulder, where it belongs.

And suddenly, the birds start singing.

You notice the garden, in all its beauty.

The children, rejoicing over a singular packet of skittles- the small kind that's not meant for sharing, but you see them part it equally.

You notice the the flowers that lay, resting

On a memorial bench, their ivory-white glow,

reflecting the rays of the sun. The petals request your company, and you sit.

Then, with the whistles of the wind,

The smooth strokes of the grass,

The sweet songs of the ocean's waves,

You see that Peace is

quieter, softer, smaller, but still there.