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subject: Fertile Ground [print this page]

Despairthe absence of all hope.
Despairthe absence of all hope.

How does one find themselves in such a state?

How is it possible to see the sun rise and set,

To watch two goldfinches

Chase each other around a birdfeeder,

To hear a child laugh or a baby cry,

To receive an unsolicited smile or

An undeserved kindness from a stranger,

And still find room to despair?

How is it possible to watch an elderly couple

Slowly hobbling down the street,

Yet still holding each other's hands

With the strength of much younger lovers,

To hear the beauty of the first bird song of the morning

Before it becomes a chorus,

To hear the last one of the evening

Before crickets take its place,

And still find no room for hope?

A deaf man rejoices in what he can see.

A blind woman revels in what she can hear.

How is it possible for one with all their senses

To sense nothing at all;

Hearing but choosing not to listen,

Seeing but choosing not to look,

Surrounded by a vast rainbow of colors

Yet walking listlessly through a world of back and white,

Music and song dance all about them

And they only complain of the noise?

How is it possible?

If one can be a child and believe there is no Father,

If one can suckle at the breast of love and say there is no Mother,

If one can clasp a hand held out in friendship

And believe there is no brother,

Perhaps

If one can see the creation and see no Creator,

If one can experience good and see no God,

If one can swim in a river of love

And believe it has no Source,

Perhaps

Where the Universe is a cold and unfriendly place,

Where toil is the journey and death the destination,

Where only the crying of motherless children is heard,

Only the destruction of war-torn lands are seen,

Only the sorrow of broken promises and dying dreams are felt,

Where the loneliest man is found in the largest crowd,

Here is the dried and cracked earth where despair grows wild!

Where the Universe is the home of endless promise,

Where a child's joyful laugh is louder

Than an enemies hateful curse,

Where hopeful eyes are drawn to a single flower

And blind to the war-ravaged rubble from which it sprouted,

Where the heart of a woman is of more

Importance than her dress size,

Where a man's word is of more

Value than his bank account,

Where a warm wave of joy is felt

Flowing over the body like cool water

From a gentle waterfall

Simply from a baby's soft cooing,

A woman's tender smile,

Or a man's loving touch,

This is the rich and fertile soil

Where Love grows free!

If you no longer can taste the rich wine of hope

Upon your tongue,

If you no longer can hear the sweet sound of singing

In the midst of the battle,

If you no longer can see the rainbow

Against a black and cloudy sky,

Or feel the touch of a stranger's hand

Held out in kindness,

It is time to open your heart

To all that anxiously waits to fill it.

If you have been blinded by bitter disappointment

Let the hand of hope lead you into the light.

If your ears are deaf to the sweet sounds

Of the music of the Spheres,

Listen closer and you will hear

The angels singing your name.

And if as your hand lightly passes

Over the tops of grasses as you walk

Through the fields of your days

You feel only rough and dying reeds,

Look into the eyes of the Love that surrounds you.

Follow Him to fields rich with the promise of living grain;

A welcoming pasture that has waited in joy

With fertile soil for your arrival;

Whose well-tilled furrows reach with impatient hope

For your seeds of love to be sown.

For this is the miracle that happens every time to those who love:

"The more they give, the more they are given in return!"

And at a harvest such as thisdespair is never welcome.

Fertile Ground

By: Glenn S. Washburn

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