Poems, Personals, and Commentary

Posts tagged ‘poverty’

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.

I Live in a Dream

I LIVE IN A DREAM

I live in a dream …

I live in a little English village
Where everyone knows each other.

I go to the butcher shop
And meet Rev. Franklin Graham and Pope Francis.
At the tea shop,
I enjoy tea and tisane with Agatha Christie,
Hercule Poirot, and Miss Marple.
I also see J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis,
G. K. Chesterton, and Dorothy Sayers there.

I say hello to John Henry Newman,
Martin Luther, and St. Francis on the street.
———————

I take a trip to the United States…

I meet Hilary Clinton and Donald Trump –
Through a series of misfortunes,
They have lost most of their money
And have become very humble people;
They regularly meet for coffee at their local coffee house.

I go to a poor section of town.
The unemployed people are busy
Keeping their neighborhood clean,
Working in the community garden,
And going to school part of the day to better their lives.

I go to a rich neighborhood …
No one is home because they are in the poor neighborhood
Distributing clothing, helping in the community garden,
And teaching English to immigrants.

———————

This is my dream …

I no longer worry what you think of me;
I focus on Jesus and try to do His will.

I no longer try to prove I’m right and you’re wrong;
I respect your opinion and will state mine if you’re willing to listen.

I have peace in my heart
Because I have let go,
And given everything to God.

[Reconciling different elements in my life: Christians
with differing viewpoints, political factions, the rich
and the poor, and my own inner conflicts.]

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