Plow of Compassion

I look down the hill and see the plague in the valley Ravaging farmer, field and crop alike Where the bundles are stored and young children are carried Every motion they take, they go farther from light All that can help them is the plow of compassion It too has a memory, it too can yield May it help them cross rivers of poisonous passion May its fair irrigation revive every field I look in the news for one sign of improvement A chance that conditions have stabilized The faithful and hopeful are all-too-human They seed their land to adapt and survive All that can help them is the plow of compassion It too has a memory, it too can yield May it help them cross rivers of poisonous passion May its fair irrigation revive every field I check in on the children before my own nightly struggle Their faces untarnished by the slightest corruption What weapons have I to protect them from trouble? What lessons have I to teach them life’s repercussions? All that can help them is the plow of compassion It too has a memory, it too can yield May it help them cross rivers of poisonous passion May its fair irrigation revive every field.