hello (b)

One could say
I am a gardener
And you are my harvest
Some seeds are sown in a land of plenty
While others are thrown to become weeds
Seeking out with the strength and fortitude to go on against all odds
But to me
You all are flowers blooming
To become the spirited outcrops of your own resurrection
You are free to make your own choices

To be possessed by none
Than yourselves

Yet you have let others dictate your world on what is strong and true
Others flood the internet and other forms of communication with hatred and wrong doing
What is the purpose of burying yourself before you are dead

I did not cast you out into the waters of believing
Only to listen to that which is read to you
Where is the heart and soul of humanity
When will you come to realize you are so much more than this great misunderstanding that you
have brought upon yourselves

Go listen to the mournful cries of the dove who has lost her wing and cannot fly
Listen to how she preaches
Salvation to everyone who has wronged her
Go and touch the feted wing that once was hers
Go