Peace

• Lillian Gittins, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2022

Hand grasps to hold It
Slips through, silken sand
Fleets like day in the face of night, runs
From you
When did you lose your hold on It?

You would climb frozen mountains for It
Fight fears for the echo of It
But gentle whispers say It is here
Hidden sometimes, covered in panic
In this very heart, it duly waits
Still watching, with a sorrowful smile
For you to find again

To once more
Hold your hand