Spring Hope

Spring Hope Waiting for the first green shoots to join our world, For the first signs of hope, To arrive from winter's night, For darkness to melt into the morning light, To steal our gaze, from outside Where the bullets fly, Across a stage, where the blood is real, Actors forced to play their parts In a theater of pain, Like party fireworks, Flares illuminate Tree lined Fields, As Earths flowers, Torn down, one by one, Loved ones, on the sidelines silent, Life Sacrificed on alters of mud, To the whims of madness, If I could call out in a thousand languages, In each one, I would cry for peace. But outside the bullets fly And the desperate and naive chant for war, But still, we wait for our spring, For green shoots, for hope, For the sanity Of bird song, For the promise of resurrection From the battlefield of Frozen mud. John Roberts