peace from one perspective

Peace looks like my little brother
when he is gently slumbering
after a day of reaking havoc, as two-year-old tend to do.
After the banging, shouting, spilling, tantrum-throwing
To see him at rest, so small and quiet, vulnerable
the stillness in the room is idyllic
All is as it should be, all is right, all is ... peace.

My brother has not been two years old
for seventeen years now
yet still I remember, older sister that I am,
who helped our mom, cleaned up the spills,
tried to occupy by brother's time when told,
to avoid it when I could, often causing more mayhem
so that I'm sure when I was sleeping, my mom thought ... peace.

My brother and I are all grown up
whatever exactly that means
We can talk and laugh, work and play
an easy, comfortable back and forth
Between us is kinship, as siblings should have
a cool breeze of loyalty and love
We'd stand by each other, and that gives ... peace.