The Conciliator

The Conciliator No! There must not be strife or argument.

My face is beautiful with peace.

All this anger must be released Into the violent air. I am Alyosha Of the Flowers, the Idiot in pain.

When you are angry, the dreadful strain Is just too much for me.

True! Our parents were addicted to their fight, Our mother drunk, her morals much relaxed And father sullenly depressed, Dying from sixteen heart attacks.

What was I to do, being cast about Like some old shoe defiled by dogs But make peace between them, Stop the hurt? I am the middle son Caught in between and so the role Is a natural one. Did not our Lord say The peacemakers would be highly blessed?

So forgive all people as they transgress Upon your first born soul.

See how comely is my control.

I am Gandhi, King, Jesus on the cross.

I have this great, this beautiful notion ­ It's love alone that sets my lips in motion Carl Estrin