Of Justice and Love
Fleta R. Robinson

Godís hand cupped lovingly over the World that He made.

Beneath His palm Earthís atmosphere blanketed the globe.

Within were wars, crimes, atrocities;

The slaughter of babes Ė a million-plus each year.

Their tiny souls so newly given

Were disregarded by the surgeonís tools.

Each severed limb, each broken body

Grieved its Creator,

And shame and sadness join the atmosphere

To shroud all mankind.

But underneath the palm also resides

His chosen few

Who do what best they can to make Him known.

By prayer

By loving action to their fellow man,

By rising up refusing to be crunched,

And, by Godís grace, lifting banners

To proclaim Earthís self-wrought ills Ė

And of Godís cure.

To legislate, to weep

Saving the small oneís life is what they seek.

Authorities declaim and knock them down

And drag to prison bars.

Uncomplaining one by one they go

Submitting to the magistrates;

Count it all JOY!

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