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 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!