under a spreading chestnut tree,
where the sun always shines
and the birds always sing
with insurmountable joy,
lies a treasure.
encompassing the chestnut tree
is a village.
the villagers hold this treasure,
and all of its wondrous powers,
beneath their shielding wing,
primed to defend it to the death.
inevitably, the day arrives.
the villagers stand with courage,
for they know their motive
and never would they falter
for the worth of the treasure.
yet they are few,
and soon loose to the opponents,
who carry greed on their backs,
hate in their eyes,
and war in their weapons.
having slain all the villagers,
they dig beneath the chestnut tree-
pigs digging through slop-
and find the chest of treasure.
upon opening it,
however,
the chest merely reveals three words:
“Peace on earth.”
puzzled, they turn from the treasure,
and look out onto the village,
the destroyed village,
and marvel.
why had the villagers,
believers of Peace,
fought back?
why?
because they had fought for peace.
they had fought for each other.
they had fought for their opponents.
they had fought for the sun that always shines,
and the birds that always sing.
they had fought for this moment,
when the opponents gaze out,
their eyes sweeping the dead village,
this village reminiscent of war,
and see the peace that lay within it.
the peace that whispers,
ever so softly,
and ever so lovingly,
to the dead:
“Thank You.”
and to the living:
“Redeem Yourselves.
Live Through Me.
For Them.
Forever.”
