The Wildflowers Still Bloom
[Written in response to /protest against the Charlottesville, Virginia, madness.]
The wildflowers still bloom
No matter what your religion is,
What color your skin is,
How much money you have,
Or what neighborhood you live in.
The trees don’t ask,
“Shall I give my shade
Only to certain people —
Those of a certain color,
Those who are rich?”
The mountains still stand
When the poor walk on them,
When the oppressed tread their paths.
The ocean waves
Go in and out
Whether the children splashing in them
Are educated or not.
The birds don’t sing
Only for the perfect —
Perfectly healthy,
Perfectly formed
In mind and body.
The sun shines
And the rain falls
On the just and the unjust.
Shall I withhold my love
From another
For any reason?
God does not.
He sends the rain and the sun
On all peoples.
He gives the beauty of His creation
To each person, each day.
Let me learn from Him.
