Wednesday, July 11, 2007


If there were no different shapes
Or different frames of mind
If every flower was a rose
All hope would be lost to find
All trees would be of the same
No variety of the cultures
Everything would be bland
Comatose like ravenous vultures
No point of reference other than their own
All oceans and seas would flow
Into rivers of nothingness
Where stagnation would rampantly grow
A bouqet of flowers is a wonderful thing
Lilacs are nothing like roses or an iris
Maples and ferns are not like an Oak
Ivy is not like the wheat in fields
The sun is not like the moon or the stars
Or a harvest of variety that it yields
There is much to be greatful for
Every mind and heart has its own
Every fruit different in taste
Every rock from a different stone
Each in its way make its deposit
Upon what is known as its place
To see it ,to feel it ,to know it ,to breathe it
Is to know the meaning of grace


© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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