The Peace Enigma of Stillness

by Valery Oisteanu

Herds of trees stumble in the distance
Wailing in a low undertone
Some falling toward the sky
Burning with the speed of an invasion
How hard they try to become birds
A flock of trees nearing a death experience
Flying through their immortality horizon
Nothing left behind but timelessness
The sky undresses for the sunrise
As laughter disappears beneath frozen waterfalls
This is the startling winter landscape of WWIII
Shark’s smiles tattooed onto toys of war
Thousands of blacksmiths forging new death tools
Others assembling coffins with no names
For the unmarked crosses of the young
Dressed in white, little green men
Sad prisoners of vodka and greed
Like termites swarming European plains
Fashioned into coal-dust body bags
Screams of scars and excrements cover the snow
Oh mother of death, they do not have to perish
Lips of the icy corpse will never drink the wine
This blood-drenched earth was once a forest
In the depth of winter there is an invincible summer