Peace Comes

Until peace comes
we bear the storm;
thunder and lightning
sturm und drang

for blind are each man’s eyes
seeing not humanity in the “other”;
we stumble and do not understand, nor realize
by embedded thought our vision is confined.

When peace comes
with new found eyes we see each other’s form
 and firmly grasp the other’s hand
grown more loving, kind and warm

laughing at the old pain
shedding the hatreds millennia borne
beating the sword into plowshares
to live and love; to study war no more.



Swords Into Plowshares


About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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3 Responses to Peace Comes

  1. beetleypete says:

    Nice words, Frank. And the old guy with the white hair is a great singer too.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Norman Pilon says:

    A great piece of work! The second stanza especially stands out for me. Not only is it aesthetically perfect but profound in its insight.

    Liked by 1 person

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