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.