Beneath the starry expanse of waiting skies,
a hush descends, a breathless pause—
Peace is the quiet that counters the world’s shouts,
inviting weary hearts to stillness.

The prophet’s voice calls from the wild:
“Prepare the way of the Lord!”
Not with clamor, nor with force,
but with the quiet leveling of hills,
the filling of valleys,
and the smoothing of rough and rugged paths.

Peace is not absence,
not a void where conflict sleeps,
but a presence that fills,
binding wounds unseen,
stilling storms within.

In Bethlehem’s shadow, peace takes flesh,
not as a banner unfurled for kings,
but as a child’s cry in the night—
small, vulnerable, yet infinite.

This second flame, soft and steady,
kindles hope with calm resolve.
It speaks of swords turned to plowshares,
of lions and lambs resting side-by-side.
It promises not the end of struggle,
but a Savior who walks through it with us.

O Come, thou Prince of Peace,
teach us the melody of Your kingdom:
a song of grace, a harmony of love.
May we be Your instruments,
bearing Your light into shadows,
and Your peace into the waiting world.