In the earliest of beginning,
As so many believed;
An immaculate creature danced
In the void less element.

In the advent of man,
As so many believed;
The creator made him of sand,
To love, live and never leave.

In the struggle to survive,
As so many believed,
We strive to make perfection of our living.
And detest the consorts of discomfort.

In the realm of Peace,
Not so many believed,
That its perfection is the inner peace;
The peace of the soul is the dawn of perfection.

But in the concert of reality
Many fail to believe;
That like the immaculate creature of beginning,
We ought to dance to the rhythm of tranquility.

In the teachings of peace
Am neither relieved;
As many failed to see that existence needs peace,
Hence attacks each other and wreck havocs.

In the trance of my ignorance,
I saw that birds alone lives
And dance to the rhythm of peace.
But, in sooth, the soul of man needs to dance
For peace and peace alone, entranced.


© Nelson Chrysantus O.C