Peace

by Karen Ostrom

 If we could take our anger and hate
Then place it in ugly gray rock to hide
All the confusion, turmoil and strife
Symbolically shoved also deep inside
Now if we took this ugly gray rock
And tossed it in a slow moving stream
Time would smooth away the jagged edges
The rock now masquerades as a thing of beauty
For under its disguise of polished glory
It is still nothing but a gray rock
All that was is still there cleverly concealed
But time is persistent and it refuses to quit
It stubbornly rubs away at misery and despair
Till all that is left is a small grain of sand
If we look upon the multitudes of sand
And imagine all the hard rocks it once contained
To walk barefoot upon the shore would cause pain
But we needn’t worry about injury no longer
For the ragged rock is worn smooth and it comforts
And we can lie upon the cool sand and be at peace
The jagged rocks will one day become a particle of sand
But the grain of sand can never return to its former self