Pick up a newspaper, turn on the t.v.,
look at the mirror of our lives:
another newborn thrown in a garbage can,
another bomb blown by the terrorist hand,
listen to the radio, listen to the streets
of humanity trapped in rush hour, choking
on the fumes of violence, choking on fear,
gagging on racial tensions, gagging on hate,
reeling from war to war, staggering ever closer
to our own destruction,
there seems to be no way out, and yet...

Look above you
at the infinite blue of the sky,
look around you
at the ballet of the butterfly,
feel beneath you
the soft cool soil of the earth,
listen to the wise old trees
whose gnarled fingers point the way,
the answer is there
in the musical balance of nature
in the brilliant dance of butterflies
in the richness and depth of the soil
where the roots of every spirit
even yours and mine
secretly and deeply

intertwine.