The path to peace it’s said
is found in sacred books of old,
on parchment, scrolls and ink;
in a choir’s hallelujah,
ringing bells and fervent prayer.
Let’s scribe our wishful reveries,
our old prophetic songs,
say the bomb will never fall;
that police will join the protest
and the judge will grant a pardon
to the Harlem kid in chains.
For it’s not that hard to add a verse
and paint a pretty picture:
Governments disband,
there’s no more need to demonstrate,
and prison gates swing open,
those who leave bear violets,
while violence drops as dust.
Faith begets trust,
trust begets love,
and the one who was your enemy
brings you candy in the night,
saying all is calm in Jerusalem,
and flags are neither waved
nor burned.
Andreas Gripp
RF Image
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