Peace in the Country

We cannot rejoice in the city
for the city
will bring us no peace.
What can the small violets say
that grow
on furry stems near
broken glass and piles of waste?
Though you kill us
and call to mind
your progress
you are not the masters of creation
it is we who will endure–
What became of country folk
rooted firmly in earth
who plowed and reaped
courage for joy
strength for sadness
what has become of humankind?
Love in a parched land
awaits a spring rain–
We must make love of the land grow.
We can and must go
not to plow, not to sow or cut
but with hearts green as
lance-shaped leaves
empty of worlds that give us no peace.

Rayn Roberts 1997

 

Goin’ Up to The Country

wild-violet-flower

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