When I am most at peace
I do not feel it right away
& usually, it is not peace I am feeling but fatigue and drowsiness.
From the moment I am rudely interrupted by an alarm at five twenty-seven in the morning, my duel has begun
So I strap my backpack on like a sword and a sweater with the logo of my cult stitched on my sleeve, I have already lost
But I survive till three o two when the signal goes off that it is time to retreat
I am out of fire power and strength
For those days that my only source of rejuvenation are the sounds of a male singing into my ears through headphones, I am not thinking of tomorrow or the years to come
This moment of silence so common in the middle of a lesson at church or studying
I can picture the skyline of New York City and the toothy smile people waltzing in Central Park,
The ocean is still for a single moment and even above water I can hear all sea life in a frenzy just as crazy as my heart while running from my responsibilities
This is peace.
When the battle field is littered with dead comrades and fire eating your heels-- this is the most tranquil moment.
