This is the other war,
the one inside that you do not see,
the struggle between heart and head,
between kindness and anger,

the unending skirmishes
between then need to cling and the wisdom
of letting go,
between the joy and pain,
between the forces that lift you up
and the forces that hold you prisoner,
between love and fear,
between faith and the void that dresses up so well
but has beyond it’s skin…. nothing.

It smolders. It roars like a vibrant cancer,
this constant war,
tearing at the heart, at the mind
just under the surface
where only the most perceptive see
while on the surface you are at peace
while the other war rages
takes prisoners (yourself often one),
leaves casualties and the hidden wounded.

This is the war that too often looks like peace,
that appearance is itself another skirmish,
the battle
to keep the war secret.

There is no end to this war
until find your own place of peace,
your truth,
and stand by it, refusing all else,
until you stop,
and breath in the love that underlies all,
and breath out the devils that gleefully live
in your chaos,
your very breath the ultimate weapon,