Aimea Mother and Child

Peace and the Inevitability of Fruition

part of: Poetry

by Teresa Dunyati-Long

We have an issue at hand right now.
The issue involves peace
and the inevitability of war.
The inevitability of peace has never been considered;

and the objects of our consideration swell eagerly toward
fruition,
falling off the branches of our thoughts
down into the soft open mouths of our
children,
who are lonely in the night. And in the houses of their dreams
the lights refuse to come on.
No, the switches do not work; those tools we have given them
to light this present darkness.

War is a simple thing.
No, not the tools of war or its strategies,
its disguises or its propagandas,
not its body counts or the aftermath
or the fear of its umpteenth coming.

But war itself, its root,
is altogether simple consent
to see only one’s own ends. And so is peace
simple consent
to see all ends co-exist
The moment you say “but
this other end isn’t right,”
you have consented to war
and the dropping of its inevitable fruits down
into our children’s open, unconscious mouths.