Soft patter of rain is heard

on red tinted roof

and against thin

window panes of

her cozy room.

Seated before the charcoal

fire, thinking about war

and the precious life

it destroys.

In a land where shadows of

darkness began to creep

upon the anxious mind,

she dreams that Church bells

and Azans will begin

again to sound.

Unlike anything heard before,

this time to come from God's sky,

from tree tops,

and from the very heart of man.

Snow will glitter

and glisten under the warmth

of the sun,

when equality and freedom

on platters of justice will be done,

and blood baths from flowing

will cease to run.

Laughter and joy

will replace mothers' cries

Nightmares and fear

will forever disappear

children will dance, rising over

mountain tops, as the free wind

ruffle gleefully the leaves

of surrounding trees.

Forgive me my friends

if I feel isolated and withdrawn

from life's painful thorns

for I'm happy to be walled and veiled

behind the walls of my dreams!

Therese copyright ©, 2000

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