Wistful Earth

Clouds do what clouds are inclined to do:
They effortlessly glide across the sky.
While I'm wondering why I'm feeling blue,
They navigate the restless wind on high.

Today the Earth is wistfully clad.
But clouds have a purpose, a mission to fulfill;
And they'll heed the call, good day or bad:
They sail on, though they're seemingly standing still.

Birds do what birds are designed to do:
They search the sky and sing their blissful songs.
Will I keep my earthbound point of view
Or let it soar on high where it belongs?

It's easy to give up and be sad.
But birds have a purpose, a mission to fulfill;
And they'll heed the call, good day or bad,
In the lowest valley and on the highest hill.

What about us? What have we been called to do
When troubled times cause fragile hearts to fail?
I won't yield to helplessness--will you?
Our hope-emboldened spirits must prevail.

Our restless planet yearns to be glad.
And we have a purpose, a mission to fulfill;
We must heed the call, good day or bad:
Choose to love, and pray, "Not my will..."
Choose to love, and pray. "Not my will, but your will."


© 2020 David Acosta