Contradictions

To but see a single flower bloom amidst blackened fields of dead.

To hold in the palm of your hand a beam of moonlight.

Worlds unseen collide, words less spoken, better said.

To see the pain in the living crease the lines of a face.

To but feel the unfeeling and to hear the silence speak.

Laughter amongst tears consoled in His abiding grace.

The flowers thus blooms from the ashes of life consumed.

Thus tis better through the present of eternity now to see.

Oh, but to see a single flower in bloom in the mix -

Of the madness of humanity.

J. Allen Wilson © 10/11/11