There is peace in rest and a lot of rest in peace.

When I pause for rest, I feel peace

When I pause for peace, I am rested

In pieces, I find myself, looking for peace

It is when I rest, I feel at peace.

…

With words flying around like weapons, it reminds me of the instrument I was taught to express them – an innocent pencil. A pencil needs to be sharpened before it can be used for writing. A shabby tip did produce words but no one wanted to read it, not even oneself. If you use too much force while writing, it breaks the tip and leaves a mess on paper. The mighty savior – eraser to the rescue but it even gets dirty with the dark charcoal its trying to erase. Just use the right amount of force they said and it will last longer. The obvious question was – to what end.