The grass ripples in the wind

Revealing different shades

Of colors lush.

Look at the clouds,

Their white plush.

Like heavenly throw pillows.

And then the sun, bleeding yellow.

Man, all the questions,

How did it start?

 A monkey? A man?

A boom? A breath?

I think of life

Or is it death?

For a soldier can tell

That though war is hell

People never feel more alive

Then when closest to death.

That must mean there’s something after,

Or something present

or past.

The iconoclasts,

the laughs,

Those who suck Folly’s poisonous dripping lips.

They tear, they claw, they grip, they shake.  

But heart, you know a secret

Eyes,you cannot see

Faith, you’re sure of what you hope for

Take courage, let them be.

I know where it started,

Before this awful mess

It began in Genesis.