Is a quiet violence

On the wars that rage within.

Killing the things that are killing me.

It is a gift.

Not an achievement

Not merely a consequence of happy circumstance.

It is not driven off by disaster

It does not hold us ransom

Threatening to leave

If life takes unexpected turns.

The peace of God

Is a morning star

A guiding light

That grows from within

It need not show off,

Even in the absence of tangible blessing

It remains.

The peace we manufacture for ourselves

Is not so;

It is deeply conditional,

Even if we got everything we ever wanted

It could still be found missing.

Man made peace

Can somehow can still evade us

Even in the presence of tangible blessing.

The peace of God

Is militant.

Aggressively

Calming the turbulence within,

Gently

Pruning the heart.