All of man’s seasons
bring natural inventions,
peace the best of them.
One is not separate
from the earth at any time.
With peace, all are one.
No dark without light.
No seasons without changes.
No hope without peace.
Spring is not summer.
Pickles can’t be cucumbers.
Peace is who one is.
There’s but one question,
summer, winter, spring and fall.
Will one work for peace?
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