and the earth emerges from sleep —
May the shadow of the dove be seen
as she flies across moor and city.
Over the warm breast of the earth she skims,
her shadow falling on the watcher in the tower,
the refugee in the ditch,
the weary soldier at the gate.
May the shadow of peace
fall across the all-night sitting of a council
across the tense negotiators around a table.
May the shadow of hope
be cast across the bars of a hostage cell
filling with momentary light
rooms tense with conflict,
bringing a brief respite,
a slither of gold across the dark.
May she fly untiring across flooded fields,
across a city divided by hate and fear,
across a town wreathed in smoke.
May the shadow of reconciliation,
the dove of peace with healing in her wings,
be felt and seen and turned towards
as she makes righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of her cause like the noonday sun.
Holy Spirit of love,
bring healing, bring peace.
From “The Pattern of our Days” by The Iona Community, UK