Depression Corn
Grandma planted Indian corn
carefully in the sod.
She had no more money,
but she did believe in God.
Grandma watered what she'd sown.
She said a silent prayer.
A few months later healthy corn
grew in the clearing there.
It fascinated me
that from so small a seed
such good could come from American soil
to fulfill our family need.
Grandma never lacked for food.
The Bread of Life was here.
She rocked and read her Bible
and prayed without a fear.
If we listened to God like Grandma
God could heal our troubled land,
and we wouldn't be fighting foreign wars
in Iraq or Afghanistan.
Let foreign countries change themselves.
We cannot do it for them.
Why slit our throat for someone else?
A wise would ignore them.
But the world's resources, men can never ignore.
To those coveted countries, we'll open every door.
All worldly governments are basically the same:
variable, with wars; taxes; and change.
Mankind's involved in a global marble game
with new circles of influence being lost or gained.
Those who have assets, enjoy a good ride.
Those who have little, starve to the side.
But in the end, doesn't God make the rules?
We are His assets.
They are His fools.
Janet Marie Bingham
Copyright © Janet Bingham | Year Posted 2018
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