*******************
Peace is not the silence of empty streets,
nor the pause between two wars.
It is the breath of a child
who dreams without fear,
the hand of a mother
that opens the door without trembling.
Peace is the river
that carries no blood,
only reflections of sky
and the laughter of trees.
It is the courage of voices
that rise against injustice,
not with weapons,
but with the steady rhythm of truth.
Peace is fragile,
like glass held in the sun,
yet it is stronger
than the walls we build
and the borders we draw.
It begins in the smallest gesture—
a smile offered to a stranger,
a word of kindness
that travels farther than bullets.
Peace is not a destination,
but a way of walking,
a way of remembering
that every soul
is a mirror of our own.
******************************
Peace is not the silence of empty streets,
nor the pause between two wars.
It is the breath of a child
who dreams without fear,
the hand of a mother
that opens the door without trembling.
Peace is the river
that carries no blood,
only reflections of sky
and the laughter of trees.
It is the courage of voices
that rise against injustice,
not with weapons,
but with the steady rhythm of truth.
Peace is fragile,
like glass held in the sun,
yet it is stronger
than the walls we build
and the borders we draw.
It begins in the smallest gesture—
a smile offered to a stranger,
a word of kindness
that travels farther than bullets.
Peace is not a destination,
but a way of walking,
a way of remembering
that every soul
is a mirror of our own.
