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.
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.
:-)
I remember this one. The street singer is very good. (And so is the poem of course.)
Best wishes, Pete.
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