As we weep
The flowers grow
From the pain
We rise
But when anger strikes us
We burn
We turn to ash
Once we are ash
We stay ash

We were told by our mothers
That the spirits
That the winds that blow against our skin
Will one day move through us
And take what little of us remains
The wind will soar and carry us
Across fields and streams and mountains

But the winds have died
There are no more tears
No fire burns
And the flowers don't grow

We've killed ourselves

God is comfortable with diversity
God sees straight
As well as crooked
Black as well as blue

God recognizes
And appreciates each of us
Who walk on earth

Think of another world
Where judging others
Rules the day

What does it look like,
Look around you
It looks like today’s world

Might perceptions change
Where people see each others
With total wholeness
Respecting others
While dropping away
The compulsion
To categorize

Might perceptions change
Might people view others
With wide-eyes
Accepting crooked and straight
Black as well as blue
And become comfortable with diversity

Some people outgrow growth and embrace decay
The love they had once is now all but flayed
So a veneer of ice is all that's displayed
It's hard to heal when one is betrayed.

Some people take and destroy what they want
When their cold it's not their accountability that haunts
It's their hatred of others how self imposed abandonment taunts
It's a regime of hedonism that leaves a soul gaunt.

Some people can heal and reveal that living is choosing
That to get up and live is beautiful even when losing
It's a battle in a war and the essence of life is bruising
That the beauty is in the battle is the reason life is confusing.

just as the soft breeze
carries a falling seed 
of the maple tree
to a distant place 
with the sun's warmth 
and a gentle rain 
life sprouts anew
just as love's seed
opens in our hearts

love cripples the strong 
and strengthens the *******
love fools the wise 
and wisens the fool
love brings harmony to chaos
and chaos to harmony
love is balance

The compass inside me has always been fragile, broken. Do you know what happens to a child with no direction? They wear your face. I knew the grownups didn’t love me the way I was. I’ve never been loved. Not when I wore my own face.