Spinning on a Ball of Dirt

Photo by James Lee on Pexels.com

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 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


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