Ποιειν Και Πραττειν - create and do

Ray Cassar

Statement

The search for peace is like the fabled quest for the Holy Grail. Peace is just as elusive as this mythical chalice that, once found, would bring peace and prosperity to the land of Arthur. What we call “Peace”, unfortunately, are brief moments of respite between long periods of suffering and anxiety. In fact the Italian poet Leopardi refers to pleasure as “the son of toil” “Piacer figlio d’affanno”.

If we take our daily lives, people look forward to the weekend in order to enjoy a bit of peace after a long week of work.

One of the most basic instincts of man is fear. Fear of failure, fear of disease, fear of growing old, fear of losing our loved ones and so on. This element of fear makes it difficult for us to reach a permanent state of peace. Even religion does not guarantee peace in this world. Most religions teach us patience and fortitude and how to resign ourselves to our fate with courage in faith in a better life to come.

Finally, there is the fascination of war and conflict which we often glamorise in literature and in films. War is a direct result of fear. What we fear we hate and what we hate we try to destroy in order to feel safe. Once the horrors of war remove all the glamorous make up from the face of Mars, then we once again hanker for Peace.

Personally, I don’t think we can find lasting peace on this earth. Perhaps that is part of God’s plan for us so that we won’t tie ourselves too closely to this life but yearn for the next.

 

Peace

What is Peace?

Is it the setting of a burning desert sun at the end of day,

Or the opening of the clouds when stormy clouds have passed away?

Is it the dying breath of man, when suffering is no more,

Or is it the returning farmer from the field bent-backed and sore?

Is it the lull from conflict and of bloody screams,

Or is it the fulfilment of near-impossible dreams?

 

Peace for me,

Is the gentle evening breeze on a balmy summer’s day

Is the sound of carefree laughter jolly and gay

Is the tinkling sound of water in a milk-white marble pool

Or perhaps the idle musings of an uncomplicated fool

Peace for me is the breathing of a baby fast asleep,

Under a mother’s watchful eye, its castle keep.

6th August 2014

 

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