For Haiti

There is something to it That beneath the rubble our extinction There could be gold, But what tragic convulsion to reveal it; What loss of better being: The human spirit, From the frazzled fuss to claim it. Yet I wish you better Like a country In circumstantial fetters Too long. Lifting makes the muscles strong Carry your griefs in years of silence Every child is born out of travail Whatever we become For we have already enriched the world With everything brashly stolen, Let us give them now For they did not know not to take The seed away fro its climate That trees grow best in native soil They did not know Love always must be given For only in love the universe can thrive. In every spot there is a little gold In every Haiti there is a precious core Of hope, and rubbles too have ore.