As Hope’s whispers saturate the ground, Peace roots itself deep in our hearts. It takes hold in the most barren of deserts. It grows in the coldest of winters. It holds its beauty in drought. We sit under its canopy, climbing branches of Justice and leaves colored Mercy holding strong through the seasons. All the while, storms rage and things pass, but Peace holds still.
Peace. Ravaging Fear’s fields until their soil gives way to serenity. Peace. Bearing the fruits of Perfect Love.
Tonight, Peace, in abundance, grows.