Peace
Do not be concerned about me,
I have found peace with my humanity.
Stay silent too long,
And shame simply lives on,
So I face it, speak it religiously.
I do not expect not to struggle,
I do not run from the days that are muddled.
I live quite well in my skin,
Write it all down and then,
With any luck remove some shame for others.
My peace does not mean not reacting,
Nor should it look like detaching.
It means accepting the form,
Of each unique moment born,
Still, sacred space left to feel anger, injustice, and passion.
— April Resnick
Blood Room by Ryohei Hase
This one is for my “Temp Mom,” as I used to call her. Inspired by a conversation we had about having peace amidst the struggle of being human. The coexistence of both pain and peace is indeed possible, preferable even, and can be equally well attained while walking very different paths.
sometimesihatemycat 
a superb and noble piece; truly wise, even when it can’t be practised … lived (which is what your poem said anyway)
I think that for me, real peace has been in the living, the living of ALL of it, without shame. I have noticed peace perhaps while I have been sitting still…but truly found in the living. Thank you.