Peace arrives like the hush of a hill at dawn,
when the silver of night quietly moves on.
It settles in softly where wild rivers bend,
a calm that the restless winds cannot end.
It breathes through the branches of patient trees,
moving in murmurs along the breeze.
Leaves listen deeply, the sky grows wide,
and the earth holds silence like an incoming tide.
Peace is the pond where the moonlight rests,
the quiet assurance in feathered nests.
It drifts through valleys in gentle grace,
a sacred stillness time can’t erase.
Mountains keep watch with unmoving sight,
guarding the balance of shadow and light.
The ocean exhales in a rhythmic release,
each wave whispering the language of peace.
It grows in the garden of hearts made still,
like morning dew on a silent hill.
A soft inner meadow where worries cease,
and the soul remembers the truth of peace.
So walk with the wind where the quiet streams flow,
where the deep roots of calm forever grow.
For peace is the breath the universe gives –
the quiet knowing in everything that lives.
