Spring sonnet for peace

Spring sonnet for peace

Where soft the snow has fallen, now I stand,
Out-crocussed snowdrop, left to cleanse the land,
Daffodils arise and trumpet call
Heralding the change, as epochs fall.
Small am I to watch around me rage,
Embittered battles of a bygone age,
Yet full my heart to bursting with the sight
Of dead and dying; crying; wrong yet right.

Hangs my head in shame for wounds long seen,
Sheltering under yew, in graveyard green
And small though I may be, my petals white,
Permeate those wise-minded with sight.
For trifling though i may appear, my thoughts
Are sprung from souls, long-gone, who bravely fought
For king or queen, dictator, mighty few.
My duty to evoke them now in you.

The mind faces dilemma; ways concurrent,
You must be sure the reason for this war,
Be certain that the sacrifice does warrant
Higher cause, for trust; not petty score.
For greed and slaughter never were bedfellows,
Lain in peace alongside love and truth,
Utopia, as theory, wanes and mellows
Over yellow years, as does my youth.

Enough to march and sing, false chanting empty,
Less to stand against; with purse full-plenty,
More to cognitively stand aghast,
Weighing pro, or con, or judgement passed.
Now a time to open up the sky,
Think the peace into effect; let fly
And gather in the ether, gaining power,
Harmony to battle with death's hour.

This thought, this fleeting glimpse of pure-white peace,
Could be - should be, enough for war to cease.