You might ask me
what peace looks like.
Peace looks like the scent of
empty noise;
is the colour of
midnight’s rainbow; sounds
like time that is
neither ante or
post meridiem; is
seasoned without utterance yet
dances on the pulse of my thoughts
lapping on the waves of the morning’s edge.
Peace moves me to be still;
knows how to touch my heart with
a lingering good morning kiss.
Peace is like audible cake; tastes
like my favourite memory and
wears me like bespoke over-garments
made by God’s own seamstress.
This morning
I am at peace.
Neither coming nor going
I have arrived,
neither late nor early
I am on time
neither here nor there
I am alone.
Undiscovered
I am at PEACE