Finding Solace

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What is more peaceful than

The wind caressing your face

Messing your hair, fluttering your dress,

The wind that uproots sturdy trees

And rips the roofs upon your heads,

The wind that shreds your posters

And brings the distant dirt and smell?



What is more peaceful than

A toddler’s merry laughter,

That can melt the cruelest of hearts?

His babble is more charming than the Prince,

His eyes hold sheer innocence.

Who would acquaint him with a world

Of hypocrisy and injustice, greed and lust?



What is more peaceful than

The haven in a mother’s lap?

When she strokes your hair in the darkness,

Aren’t all your sins forgotten?

Oh! Where do you go to find solace?

Is it in the city of Venice or the islands of Sicily

Or simply in your father’s arms?

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