The Flower in the Dirt
The Flower in the Dirt
Within the War torn city
the stench of death is everywhere
it's so hard to imagine
why anyone would care.
Who lives, who dies
who's friend, who's foe
as all who are left
diminish and go.
Devastation all around
dust and debris remain
no life is apparent here
just killing, hurt and pain.
Has God really forgot this place?
this grey and lifeless city
has he just abondoned it
not even having pity?.
Surely this is the Devils place
this is his very own
has he won this as his prize?
as evil he condones.
In this War torn city
growing from a crack in the ground
pushing up into the light
a bud opening without a sound.
Up and up it grows and grows
so tall, so beautiful and proud
in amongst the devastation
it aims for the clouds.
This is a message to everyone
that Spirit is everywhere
no where on earth does he forget
he knows all, he is, he cares
Spirit is in all of the Universe
full of his glory and might
there will always be petty cowards
finding reasons to fight.
These are insignificant
life is short for them
Gods creation lives on and on
right down to a flower on a stem
In this war torn city
the flower has grown so high
the sun streams down to warm it
as it grows towards its maker in the sky.
(c) TRIZIA
2007
Vote for this poem
The Flower in the Dirt
|
|
|
|
©2000 - 2022, Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors. Visit My Home Page | Start Your Own Poetry Site | PoetryPoem [ Control Panel ] [ Today's Poetry - ALL Poets ] [ Search ]
| |
|