[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 —
In mind and body.
The sun shines
And the rain falls
On the just and the unjust.
Shall I withhold my love
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.
(At least in the northern hemisphere!)
The winter has passed.
On many days we see the sun –
Aft’ freezing rain,
Aft’ icy wind,
Our hearts can open up again.
No longer do I cringe
Against the wind.
Not much fasting now –
Not much bleakness now –
With color is our world endowed.
The warmth of the sun –
Let hearts be open to it now.
An allegory of God’s Love
You planted the seed of Love in my heart
You watered it
You waited patiently
One day I broke through the ground
You sent the sun and rain
You watched over me
I continued to grow
You sent the bees and bugs to pollinate
Sometimes I fell ill
You tended me until I mended
You fertilized the barren soil of my heart
Fruit began to show
You fertilized my heart again
When the fruit was ripe
Others picked it
It was sweet and refreshing
Sometimes you would prune me
At first I was angry —
How could you hurt me that way?
But then I noticed:
After the pruning, I would bear more fruit
I grew older
There was less fruit now
But still good
Sometimes there was bad fruit
You returned it to the earth
To be transformed and to nourish other plants
Sometimes fruit fell to the ground
To begin new plants
I am old now
Dry and shriveled
Soon I will return to the earth
But the seeds that fell
Will continue to grow
Watered by Your Love
THAT FEARFUL THING
That fearful thing did quiet lurk.
It disappeared into the dirt.
I dreaded to that thing go near;
With apprehension I did fear.
I set a trap to catch that thing.
I’d catch it good, with trap to sting.
I knew it must a monster be.
I knew it lurked to get at me.
What wonder did my eyes behold —
‘Twas not a rat, but lizard bold.
It looked benign, it stared at me.
It did not jump — sat quietly.
And now I’ve given the thing a name.
My fear misplaced — it’s not to blame.
IN DARK SHADOWS
In dark shadows live our fears;
In half-seen pictures, fear comes near.
In hidden places lurk our doubts;
In darkest alleys, doubt comes out.
Our thoughts get twisted, tied in knots —
Contorted, garbled — truth it’s not.
Imagination — it runs wild.
We’re fearful like a little child.
Until the light of love turns on,
Until God’s truth shines like the sun.
Until we give Him all our fears —
And then He calms and dries our tears.
Bird songs billowing from the hedges,
From meadows, grasses, trees and sedges.
Twitter, toot, and hoot, and tweet,
Their song and melody so sweet.
Flowers timid peep from ground;
Will the warmth still be around?
Frogs in creeks at night do croak,
Parents take walks with little folk.
The sun can warm us as we walk,
But clouds are good to cool us off.
Still a chill in morning air,
But new life battles all our cares.
[I thought I should explain how this poem was inspired. I watched a documentary about the real story that the book “The Hunt for Red October” is based on. See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh0N3iG-7Uc . In the true story, a Russian naval officer is disillusioned by the way Communism had played out in reality (although he was still a Communist). He tried to start a revolution to bring back Communism to it’s ideal (helping the common people). The documentary also portrayed the Cold War in an interesting way. I thought about all the hopes and dreams of people from very different backgrounds. Then my mind jumped to other differences, like Protestant and Catholic, “conservative” and “liberal”, etc., and I thought, “I wonder if we are all wrong about each other?” Not too say there are not good reasons for the differences and conflicts, only that each person in his heart has a dream that we need to listen to.]
I thought you were my enemy
But someone had told me lies about you,
And so it seems,
Someone had told you lies about me.
We went around in a fog of falsehood
That seemed so normal
Because the fog was constantly around us.
Then the light
Began to break through
For me, for you.
The mist still mystifies
But it’s getting thinner.
Slowly the sun’s light
Is burning through.
Are we just relating
To ideas of each other
Or who we really are?
If I could see
With eyes divine
I would not believe a lie.