Power, when it comes,
comes powerfully.
Frightening a world.
Superbeings, raging
with strength, able to fly,
disappear, read your mind,
see your bones and organs.
Fighting, always fighting
even when they win.
In my comic book life,
I don’t seem super
or even very powerful.
Able to say anything
to anyone. With an ear
to hear, a mind to mind.
Language, in the end,
is what makes us men
(and more than men).
To talk in tongues to
everyone. To listen
and learn and understand.
The mouths of all people
open to me, mine to them.
What couldn’t we say then?
Paz, paix, pace, pokoj, uxolo, fred, friedan, salom, shlum, santi, heiwa, mir, heping…
Peace,
peace,
peace.