THE CHILDREN?
Who come to be adored?
They arrive as seeds for humanity’s dreams
But who waters anymore?
Each child is a spark of laughter
A gleam in a smiling god’s eye
The Earth exhales with each of their footfalls
Creating mountains touching sky.
The ocean beholds the dry land
And in love sends clouds with rain
Thus the angels too behold us
And send children again and again.
Who cries for the children who stand upon the shore
Who come to be adored?
They arrive as seeds for humanity’s dreams
But who waters anymore?
We as a people stand in a great forest
Surrounded by giant trees of little me’s
And try to raise our precious flowers
In the darkness of a forest impossible to see.
Though each child holds the fire of heaven
To be tended and allowed to set forth ablaze
Instead we smother with cold knowledge
When devils they become we point with blame.
Who cries for the children who stand upon the shore
Who come to be adored?
They arrive as seeds for humanity’s dreams
But who waters anymore?
The sky is the hand of vastness
Its fingers are our children’s births
Paving the road we must travel
As we continue our cosmic search.
So let us do cry for those upon the shore
In joy of the opportunity to adore.
And care for these seeds of our becoming humanity
And water with such tears evermore.
Janaka Stagnaro 2003
janakastagnaro.com