Murder cries the cathedral A hungry hawk, a sword, a ploughshare Set the stage in Canterbury
Peace lies waiting-fugitive, cloistered and longing Peace lies waiting-hovering above the spearpoints Peace stands higher than my fragile sense of need
Not as the world gives or has ever seen
Even the wind and the rain
I've never seen peace in a vacuum But I've seen it in a bitter sea More from Wild Strawberries