by Mary Boren

Though headlines clamor, voices blare
and bitter arguments abound
in every fearful sector where
the chaos of the world is found,
each hibernating embryo
refuses to restrain its flow
of love beneath the silent snow.

When social order seems to fall
into the clutch of grasping hands,
a growing crop is poised to call
upon the truth that countermands
the poison of contagious lies
before its spread can fertilize
the hopelessness in mournful cries.

Within the calm collective dream
of all-inclusive peace on earth
the universe emits a beam
directing to our own rebirth.
May every seedling labor through
the obstacles that block our view
of fellow feeling born anew.

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