25 June 2025

Yearning for Peace

 Yearning for Peace


Hello Friends!  When I came up with this prompt, I had no way to know that it would become even more 'current' than when I first came up with it. Sigh!

The song above was originally written by Peggy Seeger (you can search for her version of it, which is pretty too), but is sung here by Rhiannon Giddens & the Resistance Revival Chorus.  This is a very current version, and the group is touring around the United States this summer.

This week I would like you to write about peace.  Listen to the song, and feel it!  What does it inspire in you?  Write that!  If that is not enough inspiration, take a look at the lines of the song below, and use one of them to launch your poem.  A few individual words might be inspiring too:  plunder, slaughter, creation, uniting, resist, disrupt, political permission, hypocrisy, etc.  But be sure to listen first to the song.


Oh, how I long for peace
Oh, how I long for peace
Among the peoples and the nation
How I long to halt the plunder
Of the wonders of creation
Oh, how I long for peace
I cannot understand
How the sisters, wives, and mothers
Cannot stop the slaughter
Of the husbands, sons, and brothers
Oh, how I long for peace
Among the peoples and the nation
How I long to halt the plunder
Of the wonders of creation
Oh, how I long for peace
There never will be pеace
Till men abandon fighting
As the way to solvе the problems
That prevent us from uniting
Oh, how I long for peace
Among the peoples and the nation
How I long to halt the plunder
Of the wonders of creation
Oh, how I long for peace
The profits made from war
There's few that can resist them
Hypocrisy and greed control
The lifeblood of the system
Oh, how I long for peace
Among the peoples and the nation
How I long to halt the plunder
Of the wonders of creation
Oh, how I long for peace
The world can wait no longer
For political permission
Show up, disrupt, do anything
To make the whole world listen
Oh, how I long for peace
Among the peoples and the nation
How I long to halt the plunder
Of the wonders of creation
Oh, how I long for peace
Among the peoples and the nation
How I long to halt the plunder
Of the wonders of creation
Oh, how I long for peace

Or consider the Ellen Bass poem below, and use it for inspiration:  


Pray for Peace

Pray to whomever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekhina, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.

Then pray to the bus driver who takes you to work.
On the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus,
for everyone riding buses all over the world.
Drop some silver and pray.

Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latte and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.

To Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, pray.
Bow down to terriers and shepherds and Siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.

Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.

Making love, of course, is already prayer.
Skin, and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile cases we are poured into.

If you’re hungry, pray. If you’re tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.

When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else’s legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheelchair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer as the earth revolves:
less harm, less harm, less harm.

And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail,
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, twirling pizzas–

With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.

Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.

Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your Visa card. Scoop your holy water
from the gutter. Gnaw your crust.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.



Please, after you link your peace-related poem, do respond to the poems of others who link.  The prompt will close Sunday at 8 p.m. Eastern Time.