On a fine golden morning.
I found a singing dove.
On the of floor of my verandah.
It sang with such beauty and grace.
It whistled pure harmonies.
It played me a special tune.
One of a deeper meaning.
One with a deeper understanding.
Of this chaotic weeping nation of mine
The singing dove sung so peacefully.
And I watched and wondered:
About my weeping Motherland.
Many children and young people ask:
What is the color of peace.
Explain to me the smell of peace.
What is the voice of peace.
Tell me the dialect of peace.
Help me understand.
Is peace a destination we will reach in Somalia.
Is hope only a dream of the caged.
How do we re-write the alphabets of peace.
As it flew away,
It sung to me.
Oh I don’t know much, it sung.
But oh dreamers of peace in Somalia, come, let us walk together.
Oh lovers of peace in Somalia, come, let us sing together.
Oh servers of peace in Somalia, come, let us serve together.
For I know a life of peace satisfies all.
As a mind of peace awakens all
And a heart of peace loves all.
I don’t know much it said, as it flew away.
I only know the beauty of peace.