Dirt is everywhere
and staining everything
sometimes it would be easier to stay asleep
and avoid facing the world as it is
the machines of war
that fill the landscape with smoke
while those who send them out to kill
talk about the importance of reducing pollution
but under the pounding of war drums
linger the whispers of a man who said
blessed
blessed are the peacemakers
dirt is what we are given to walk on
and to sleep in
sometimes it would be easier to go along
with the river of lemmings rushing toward the edge
of despair
we are told is our only chance at salvation
it is an old cliche
that only the strong survive
but don’t we want to do more than barely survive?
don’t we want to live?
what about the old fashioned whispers of hope
saying blessed
blessed are the poor in spirit
for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven?
are we so focused on the dirt
that we can’t see that dirt is what flowers
are planted in?
if the seed will surrender
to call of the sun
it will rise again
Kelvin Bueckert 