peace

(my(our(
peace is a satiated newborn
milk-drunk and
softly dreaming

before satisfaction comes
the babe mewls and reddens
quivering and overwhelmed with
unfamiliar emotion
strong, fragile hands
searching and
painfully clench for purchase

nose and cheeks and eyes
crumple inwards
as wails of desperation
scream for attention

and even when the milk flows
and tongue and lips latch
satisfaction remains elusive

but the babe will drink
and drink
and drink more still
glugging air and liquid and all in its way
bringing all into its tender body

until the flow stops
and yet looking to draw still
finding only breath

as the warmth of milk
settles into its full
tiny belly
and the hunger wains
the swaddle of sleep descends

eyes rest
breathing calms and deepens
and the body softens once more
resting enveloped in comforting waters
within and without

until the babe awakens
hungry again

Originally written in August 2023, about the search for my own sense of peace, during a writing retreat on the theme of Spirit and Soul. Reworked on 6th November 2023.