War and Peace

Around me turbulence,
Confusion, hate, and violence.

In the still center
Of that maelstrom -
I am alone.

No turbulence, no confusion,
No hate in my heart,
Just sadness and a question:
Why?

Why can't those murdering hands
Caress babies' curly hair,
Play the violin?
Create beauty?

In the middle
Of turbulence and confusion,
Let me be quietly wise
Like the trees,
Ageless like the rivers and mountains,
Utterly nonviolent
Like the flowers.