Tru Peace

I often wonder if the people who graffiti public buildings could know how much what they have drawn or painted or written means to me.

This glorious piece of art (yes, it is art to me!) lies on the old tram sheds in my local park by the bay. It has been there for ages and every time I go walking I see it and it makes me ponder the nature of peace.

There is something quite cleansing in the contemplation of peace while walking.

True peace.

You can probably find it in your surroundings or in a moment like the one I had this morning where I was filling the watering can from the garden tap and the sunlight caught the water as it ran so it was perfectly golden.

Alchemy. That’s what it was. For a brief moment the water was liquid gold and I was an alchemist playing with light and colour. And I felt at peace to see such beauty.

And then as I walked I felt the peaceful calm of the waves lapping against the breakwater, gently, as rhythmically as the careful hand of a mother soothing a fevered brow.

And I watched the seabirds swirling, their cries so lonesome, so bleak and I felt sorrow for them until I realised that they are never bleak or alone with that great big sky to hold them. And the sea below. And the peace of it all.

Maybe that’s what we humans have been looking for all along as we trawl confused and uncertain through the days with all our living and breathing and endless talk. Maybe it’s not true love we seek after all.

Maybe it’s true peace.

Maybe true peace brings us to the true nature of everything else.

I wonder if the person who left those words on the tram sheds knew what they would mean to another.

Tru Peace.

I wonder if the words were impulse or prophecy.